


The Shield to your Sword

by 1_1SnailXD



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Abuse, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Angst, Archery, Blood and Injury, Character Death, Curses, Death, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Magic, Major Character Injury, Minor Character Death, Minor Injuries, Nonbinary Character, Original Character(s), Other, Physical Abuse, Prinxiety is the only relationship I will confirm, Swearing, Swordfighting, Swords & Sorcery
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-11
Updated: 2019-11-10
Packaged: 2020-06-26 07:14:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 28,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19763194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1_1SnailXD/pseuds/1_1SnailXD
Summary: Roman is the arrogant, but naïve, Prince of Azmar; a kingdom in the land of Sanderz. Virgil is an orphan the Queen took in as a companion for Roman, and they have been a pair ever since. Though he thinks the world of his closest friend, Roman will discover there is much Virgil has kept from him over the years. The truth is a tough pill to swallow, but Roman is going to have to swallow it if he is to save those he holds dear and protect his people from an invading kingdom.





	1. Prince’s Paradise

**Author's Note:**

> Hiya 🙂 I’m Snail 🐌  
> I hope you enjoy my first dive into fantasy writing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> updated: 18/07/2019 and bonus art at the bottom

The morning light slipped between the parts in Prince Roman’s curtains as the winds changed direction. Sunlight reflected off Roman’s mirror; shining directly onto his eyelids and blinding him as he blinked at the disruption to his rest. With a groan, Roman sat up; running his fingers through his naturally auburn hair and rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Peering around his room, he noted that fresh clothes had already been laid out for him, along with a glass of water and an apple.

Smiling to himself, Roman grabbed the apple and moved to open his curtains, revealing his view of his mother’s garden, and the edge of the training area. Taking a seat on the sill, he looked out at what he believed to be paradise. Happy citizens, healthy stock, plenty of crops and a strong, armed force; what more could a Prince ask for?

Setting the apple core on his side table, Roman headed to his bathroom. Stripping down, the prince ran his hands over the heat and water runes, feeling his soul magic run from his fingertips and activate the magic to start his shower. He bathed briefly, simply to warm his muscles and freshen his hair for the day ahead; waving his hand across the runes again, the water flow ceased immediately. 

Magic was a common thing in the lands of Sanderz. The natural magic of the land had been harnessed generations prior, as individuals became aware of their own soul magic and used ancient runes to control both magic types. As the years progressed, more and more developed an awareness of magic and the art of using runes evolved. In modern times, runes were in common use by those with and without an awareness of magic.

Some saw their magical abilities as a blessing, but for Roman it was just his birthright. Nothing to be thankful for, just a power to flaunt as he pleased. Walking the castle halls, he summoned his sword from the tattoo on his wrist; swinging and twirling the blade to a beat only he could hear. His white uniform a clear contrast against the brick walls and his black pants. Many had said that his style choice was foolish, but Roman loved the idea of parading in the crimson blood of his enemies after a battle.

His footsteps echoed loudly in the private dining room as he danced his way inside.

“Good morning, Prince Roman.”

Roman spun, sword vanishing from his hand as he faced the young maid standing in the corner.

“Good morning, Iris!” He gave the girl a pleasant smile, but she quickly bowed her head as she did every time Roman spoke.

“Shall I fetch you your breakfast?”

“That would be wonderful. Oh, Iris, have you seen Virgil this morning?”

“Apologies, I have not. I shall send for him at once.” Iris quickly headed for the door.

“Uh, no-no.” Roman’s words fell on deaf ears as Iris left the room with her mission in mind. “I do hope Virgil doesn’t mind me calling for him.”

**********

Virgil had finally achieved a deep sleep after completing a late night on guard duty. Though he was technically a ward of the Queen, Virgil still took on work so he could share his earnings with those less fortunate than him. Not to mention, he liked the added security of being self-sufficient should he suddenly be cast out of the castle.

He would have happily slept until lessons that afternoon, but Iris roughly shook him awake.

“Virgil… Virgil, please wake up.”

“Wha-what is -oing on?” He grumbled through a yawn; slowly sitting up.

“Prince Roman has requested your presence for breakfast.”

“Oh, has he now. Tell him I’m busy.” With that, Virgil pulled the blankets over his head and laid back down.

“No, Virgil, please.” Iris begged, shaking Virgil with more force now. “I can’t defy the Prince, I can’t.”

The fear in Iris’s voice woke Virgil up as he realised what he had just asked the young maid to do. If word got to the King that they had defied the Prince, they would both be punished. Sitting up, Virgil looked into Iris’s tearful and terrified eyes; apologising as he pulled her into a secure hug.

“I know. I’m sorry, Iris. I’m coming. It’s okay. I’m coming.”

While Iris left to fetch breakfast, Virgil was quick to change into fresh clothes; a loose long-sleeved purple shirt, black vest and pants. Grabbing a leather bag containing his training gear, Virgil left his chambers and headed up to the dining room to meet Roman.

**********

Virgil’s footsteps were silent in the halls as he approached the dining room to find Roman admiring himself in a mirror. Leaning against the doorframe, Virgil watched as the Prince picked at a loose gold thread on his uniforms decorative design.

“Oh, you wish to challenge me, do you?” Roman asked his reflection, and Virgil stifled a laugh. “I am afraid you are out of luck, for this shall not be a challenge for me!”

Roman summoned his sword, slashing at the mirror as he pretended to fight his ‘foe’; before turning and catching Virgil’s smiling form in the doorway.

Straightening immediately, Roman retracted his sword and tried to hide his embarrassment. “Virgil! Good to see you. Ho-how long have you been standing there?”

“Long enough to make the wakeup call worth it, Princey.” The prince’s face reddened as Virgil walked over to the table, unable to remove the grin that lit up his face.

“Um, yes, well…” Roman was at a loss for words and Virgil revelled in every second of it.

“You know, if you use all your magic playing games with yourself, you’ll have nothing left for actual practice later.”

“Me? Run out of magic? Ha! That is impossible.”

Virgil rolled his eyes, “you’ve got skill, Roman, but even you have limits.”

“Says you.”

“Says facts.”

“Facts shm-acts, I know what I’m capable of and I-“

Virgil was thankful that Roman’s rambling was cut short as Iris returned with a plate and bowl in hand.

“Your breakfast, Prince Roman.” Iris placed the loaded plate before Roman, and the bowl of porridge in front of Virgil. “Is there anything else you require?”

“No thank you, Iris. That is all.”

With a quick bow of her head, Iris scurried out of the room. Roman eyed his plate of sausages, bacon, eggs, tomato, mushroom and a fresh bread roll. Once Virgil was sure the room was clear, he reached over and grabbed the bacon from Roman’s plate.

“Hey!” Roman pouted as the other smirked and licked the smoked meat. “That was my breakfast.”

“And this is my payment.” Virgil glanced sideways at his friend, “you did wake me after a night shift on guard duty.”

Mouth full of tomato, Roman paused mid bite as he suddenly remembered Virgil asking not to be woken that morning. Forcing himself to swallow, he gave his friend an apologetic look.

“I’m sorry. I completely forgot.”

“Thank you, Captain Obvious.” Again, Virgil checked the room was clear, before reaching for the honey on the table and sweetening his meal. “Just please, Ro, no wake-up calls tomorrow. I need a little more than 3hours sleep if I’m going to protect your arse.”

“My ‘arse’ does not need protecting, but I will keep that in mind. I don’t want to be seen hanging around with Sir Racoon Eyes.”

“Nice. Very original. Now eat your breakfast.”

The pair continued to eat in silence; Virgil easily cleaning his bowl before Roman. Cautious eyes scanned the room before Virgil snuck any more of Roman’s leftovers. This banter was common between the pair, though he was always careful. Roman may have accepted and appreciated Virgil’s antics, but that didn’t make them appropriate in the eyes of the King or his knights.

With full bellies, the pair leaned back in their chairs and shared a bemused grin, which quickly soured as a question came to Virgil’s mind.

“Has there been any word on your Mother’s condition?”

Roman looked down at his lap, fidgeting with the gold band on his middle finger.

The Queen had been unwell for the past 5 years. Plagued by frequent chest infections from an old war wound. Virgil hadn’t seen her in months, thanks to the King’s increasing distrust towards him. Unless the Queen herself called on him, Virgil was not permitted to access to her chambers. Even when Roman had asked him to accompany them, he was quick to find an excuse to avoid the possibility of crossing paths with the King. Despite everything, Virgil still worried for his surrogate mother and it hurt that he couldn’t see her more often.

“She is as can be expected for the spring.” Roman admitted, “I try not to go to her room too much. All the pollen, you know.”

Virgil nodded, quietly wishing he hadn’t brought it up as he watched the sadness take over Roman’s usually happy features.

“We should probably get out of here,” Virgil finally offered, “I’m sure Iris is just itching to return and clean the room up.”

As if hearing her cue, Iris entered the room.

“I hope everything was to your liking, Prince Roman.” Eyes never rising higher than the table, she quickly collected the dishes.

Sadness dissipating, Roman was back to his usual self. “It was indeed. Bacon was a little light,” he gave Virgil a sideways grin, “but I enjoyed it none the less.”

“Oh. Um. I’m sorry.” Iris quickly left the room faster than a mouse that had run across a heat rune.

As soon as Iris was gone, Virgil punched Roman’s shoulder.

“Ow! What was that for?” Rubbing his shoulder, Roman looked at Virgil in confusion.

“You can’t say shit like that to her.”

“Chill out, Virge.” he mused, rising from the table, “It just means more bacon tomorrow and I can willingly share it with you.”

Virgil internally fumed as he followed Roman out of the room. The Prince truly was blind to the power he held over those around him and how that one little statement could force a cook to be banished from the castle, or even incarcerated for not ‘meeting the needs of the royal family’. Walking through the halls, Virgil just hoped Roman’s comment wasn’t blown out of proportion or fell onto the wrong ears. Iris may have been timid and useless in Roman’s presence, but she was far from foolish; that’s what Virgil believed to be true anyway. He had to believe. The last thing he wanted was to have a family’s misfortune on his conscience.

**********

The sun had reached its midpoint, as Virgil lent against a tree with his eyes shut and did his best to tune out Roman’s grunts as he continued to lift weights. The pair had spent a few hours completing solo weapons training and strength development. Normally, Virgil was more than happy to put his endurance to the test, but his early morning call meant he wasn’t in the mood for Roman’s antics.

"Come spar with me, Virgil," Roman called, throwing a weighted stone aside and causing the ground to vibrate slightly.

"I'm not in the mood, Princey." Virgil called back, not even acknowledging Roman with a glance.

"Oh, come on." Whined Roman, sauntering over to cast a shadow over his friend. "You've been laying there forever."

"Don't be so dramatic, and if you hadn't of woken me I wouldn't be so tired right now."

"And I'm being dramatic," Roman playfully kicked Virgil's boot. " Come on. One quick spar."

"Roman, no."

"Come ooooooon."

"Let it go, Princ-"

" **I believe your Prince gave you a request.** "

Virgil's eyes shot open at the sound of the King's commanding voice, and he wished he had a giant camouflage rune so he could disappear into the tree behind him. He knew instantly that he was in trouble, the tone alone was terrifying, but the fire in his eyes communicated his anger tenfold.

"Father!" Roman was beaming, oblivious to the tension in the air. "It is good to see you outside. Would you like to spar with me?"

"No thank you, Roman." The King’s gaze barely shifted from Virgil as he spoke. "But I would be interested to observe a duel between yourself and young Virgil."

"Wonderful, come on Virgil." Roman extended a hand to help the other up and they had enough sense to not refuse this time. "That's more like it. I'll just get my practice runes on."

"No, Roman." The King held up a hand and shook his head. "I could watch a spar any time I chose. I wish to see a duel of the Furnder style."

Virgil's blood chilled in his veins at the mention of the term. He had hoped, as had Roman, that the King only wished to watch them spar with blunted weapons. Instead he wanted a duel. Bloodshed. At least Furnder style meant first to bleed loses, but the activity was not something Virgil wished to partake in with Roman.

"Oh, a, ah, Furnder duel." Roman sounded surprisingly nervous. "I don't want- I mean, I’m sure - um…”

“Grab your straps, Prince Roman.” Virgil kept his voice level and void of emotion. “The King has made a request and we should honour it.”

“Oh, well, okay then.” All concern was gone from his voice after hearing Virgil accept the duel.

Virgil reached into his pack, retrieving leather guards that covered the tops of his hands and wrapped around his forearms. The leather was embossed with runes Virgil had crafted; he could summon various arrow tips and shafts in an instant by allowing his soul magic to activate different runes. He slipped a leather vest on, before setting to tighten his straps and activating metal runes to strengthen his leather protections and clothes.

Roman retrieved a red sash of royal emblems and runes, equipping the seemingly loose fabric across his shoulder and lopping a thick belt around his middle. He too pulled on guards for his forearms and activated protections; the sash stiffening along with his usual uniform. 

Fully equipped, the pair strode to the face each other in the centre of the training grounds; the King keeping a trained eye on them as they moved. The wind seemed to die out, allowing an eerie feeling to settle over the usually lively field. Virgil’s stomach twisted as he processed his situation - On one hand, he would have to fight Roman as wholeheartedly as possible, so as to not offend Roman and the King. On the other hand, should he actually cause Roman harm, the King would be sure to punish him greatly. There was no way out of the situation, only careful fighting and a hope that he could avoid both of those evils.

“Virgil Fidencio. Prince Roman Aelin of Azmar. You have agreed to partake in a Furnder duel.” The King’s voice seemed distant to Virgil; though there was no wind to disrupt it from reaching his ear. “You shall honour the laws of Lord Furnder. The duel is over once blood is drawn from either participant; fatal blows are unnecessary but not dishonourable. Your actions are your own. All advances will cease when blood is drawn; are you both in agreeance?”

“Aye, sire.” The young men called in unison, eyes meeting; one fearful but determined, the other excited to demonstrate his skill.

“Arms at the ready!”

Virgil and Roman summoned their weapons simultaneously; the sun instantly reflecting off Roman’s sword and meeting Virgil’s eyes. Bow firmly gripped in his right-hand, Virgil felt the tips of his fingers on his left-hand tingle as he primed his soul magic to craft arrows.

“Have honour!”

Roman widened his stance, keeping his sword low and eyes fixed on his opponent. They had sparred many times with blunt weapons and were just beginning to receive missions outside of the castle walls. The young Prince was ready to prove that he was worthy, not just in age, but in skill.

“Begin!”

Reflexes lightning fast, Virgil summoned an arrow and sent it at Roman.

“ _Shield up_ ” Virgil mentally commanded.

A red shield appeared as Roman raised his right arm, knocking the arrow aside as he advanced. With a slide of his right index finger, a semi-translucent shield formed in front of Virgil’s bow. The sword met the shield with a jarring force, but Virgil held strong and pushed the sword aside.

“ _Guard your centre_ ,” Virgil begged as he kicked forward.

His foot hit shield as Roman summoned it again; preparing to swing his sword back. A smile quirked Virgil’s lips as Roman instinctively braced to push him back. Using the added momentum, Virgil pushed off the shield to flip backwards and away from Roman’s sword; pulling an arrow into position the moment he was grounded.

“ _Be prepared for anything_ ,” Virgil felt his wrist warm as he released one arrow and summoned another with a burning tip; taking backwards steps on the diagonal to keep his distance from Roman.

The arrows struck Roman’s shield, the fire arrow making an explosion on impact that caused his vision to blur. Regardless, Roman exchanged his sword for a throwing knife and charged forward. Even with his sight impeded, Virgil still had to summon his shield to protect himself as Roman hurled the knife towards him. As the prince re-summoned his sword, Virgil thought he saw his out.

Dropping his shield, Virgil pulled another arrow as Roman quickly closed the gap between them.

“ _Shield up_.”

His fingers moved naturally to release the arrow just as Virgil’s keen eyes noted Roman’s relaxed guard arm. In a split-second reaction, he formed and released additional arrows in an attempt to divert or destroy the first.

Roman’s mind was tunnel focused as his sword crossed his body in preparation to swing at Virgil. By the time his eyes focused, two arrows collided in front of his face in a cloud of smoke and he swung blindly into the space before him. The smoke concealed them from the King’s watchful eye, and the boys were trapped in grey darkness.

A feeling of smooth resistance was enough for Roman to recognise that his blade had struck true. Activating a whirlwind rune, he quickly cleared the smoke to find Virgil crouching while aiming a freshly strung arrow at him; blood oozing from a deep gash on his left arm.

Clapping had Roman’s chest exploding with pride.

“What a brilliant display, Roman.”

Roman beamed down at Virgil at the King’s words; retracting his sword and deactivating his runes. Virgil did the same before lowering his head in shame, unable to reciprocate Roman’s euphoria as his eyes caught the fine trail of blood that ran down his right cheek.

“There is no shame in losing, Virgil.” Roman assured, still oblivious to his injury from sheer adrenaline. “It was a fine duel, wasn’t it, Father?”

Any evidence of a smile was immediately removed from the King’s face as Roman turned towards him.

“Your face was scathed.” Virgil felt the King’s presence, despite never raising his head.

Roman reached up with cautious fingers, suddenly aware of the sting as his fingers traced the cut up his cheek and to his ear.

“Huh, you managed to strike me, Virgil,” the sound of Roman’s laugh only had Virgil feeling twice as terrified for his future. “I’m impressed. Though this makes it difficult to determine the true champion. Would it be fair to call us even, Father?”

“Go see the physician, Roman,” was the King’s blunt reply, and Virgil felt the bile rising in the back of his throat as royal boots stepped into his peripheral vision.

“Father, it is just a scratch and Virgil-“

“The physician, Roman. I wish to speak with Virgil in private.”

“But he’s -“

“I’m fine,” Roman looked down to meet Virgil’s deep brown eyes. “Prince Roman. Go see to your health.”

Virgil hated having to speak so formally to his friend, but it was required in the King’s presence. Even as children, Virgil was always expected to treat Roman in a more formal manner, despite the Queen’s kind words that the boys were equals. Watching Roman walk away now, more than anything in the world, Virgil wished the Queen’s words were true. As soon as Roman was out of view, Virgil again lowered his head and kneeled before the unkind King.

_______________________________

bonus art by me 💜🐌

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading, and I really hope you enjoyed it.  
> Feel free to pass on any feedback you have (as long as it is constructive). 
> 
> Also, I’m on Tumblr.
> 
> I have a page for my art - [**@1-1snailxd-art**](https://1-1snailxd-art.tumblr.com/) 🐌
> 
> And one just for fun - [**@snail-giggles**](https://snail-giggles.tumblr.com/) 💜
> 
> Feel free to check either of them out if you want.


	2. Shielding my Prince

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roman seeks out the physician, Haefen, while Virgil is left with the King.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: abuse (past and present) mentioned in this chapter. Be safe.
> 
> Note: I edited the first chapter because I found a bunch of errors. Please, if you do spot anything that doesn't sound right or is spelt wrong just let me know. As much as I read and re-read each chapter before posting, errors do slip through on occasion and I am happy to fix them if you find them.

“Hello, Haefen!”

Roman entered the physician’s quarters without pausing to knock, startling the plump old man working by shelving full of glass bottles. A small tube of liquid tipped as the man accidentally shook the shelving, staining his white robes with an orange hue.

“Cheese and ever greens, your highness! You should know better than to startle a man of my age.”

“I wasn’t that loud,” Roman protested, “and you’re only 47, Haefen. You have years ahead of you.”

“I stand by my initial statement,” Haefen stepped away from the shelf, fruitlessly wiping at his stained clothes. “How may I be of service, sire?”

“I got cut during training.” Roman pointed to the fine cut and went to sit at Haefen’s table.

“For an injury that minor, I don’t understand why you didn’t go and visit the general infirmary. A cut so fine will heal without a scar, no need for special treatment.” Regardless, Haefen collected a white paste and rune cloth to tend to the Prince.

“I would have let it be, but Father requested I seek out healing.”

The paste was cool against Roman’s skin as Haefen traced the scar up his cheek, adding an extra dollop to the nick on his ear.

“Why was the King observing your practice?” Roman tilted his head to the side as the rune cloth was laid over his face.

“Father requested that Virgil and I complete a Furnder duel. I suppose he was curious to see how far we had come.”

Logan stepped through the back door and deposited a basket of grains and soured fruits on a bench; eyes catching the slight tremble in their Father’s hand as he activated the rune cloth covering his patients face.

“Virgil was the cause of this?”

“Yes. I may have caused the deepest and most obvious wound, but I didn’t feel Virgil’s arrow cut me at all. I guess we will never be sure who truly drew the first blood in the duel.”

Haefen turned and gave Logan a worried look before they quickly slipped back out into the yard; black clouds beginning to encroach on the formally clear sky. Pulling the cloth away, Roman’s cheek was completely unscathed and Haefen managed to remain composed despite his worry.

“Wonderful work as usual,” Roman remarked as he assessed his cheek in the mirror.

“Thank you, sire.” Steady hands carefully started clearing benches as Haefen began mentally planning for the worst. “You are free to go now, Prince Roman.”

“I think I will wait for Virgil.” Roman was wondering around the room, peering into various jars and containers. “I’m sure he will seek your healing as well after he finishes talking with my Father.”

“That may be so, but I must insist that you continue your day. I would hate for you to miss your studies.” Roman was about to argue when Haefen cut him off, “Your scholars will be expecting you both, and it would be unfair to leave them waiting aimlessly in the library. I will send word for you after Virgil has recovered.”

“I suppose you are right,” Roman headed towards the door, pausing to look back at the physician with a worried expression. “You promise to send for me when he is healed?”

“You have my word, sire.”

With that confirmation, Roman headed off to the library to partake in his overdue lessons and Haefen could openly set to work preparing for Virgil. All he knew was that Virgil would have a sword wound from Roman, and there was no way of knowing what the King would do to him for purposefully causing the Prince harm. During Roman’s first melee tournament, Virgil received a broken jaw by the King’s hand when he failed to ensure his son’s advancement to the final round.

It saddened Haefen to see the young man being helplessly beaten, and the severity only seemed to increase the longer the Queen was ill. He dared not imagine what would befall him should the Queen ever pass.

**********

Rain began to fall as Logan made their way back home; though they were thankful for their hooded shoulder cover, they wished they had their cloak to properly protect themself from the damp soaking their clothes. After hearing of Virgil’s injury, Logan had gone to the spell crafters to ensure they had plenty of runes for the unknown task ahead. Since becoming their Father’s apprentice, Logan had seen many illnesses and injuries from citizens, guards and knights; but Virgil was their most frequent patient. From simple bruises and cuts, to broken bones, they had stood by and held his hand as Haefen pieced his broken body back together. Despite all this, Logan’s breath still caught in their throat when they spotted Virgil’s crumpled form beside the stables.

“Virgil! Virgil, open your eyes for me.”

Blood stuck to Logan’s hands as they tried to rouse the beaten young man; taking in the gash to his arm and forehead, along with shallowed breathing.

“Come on, Virgil! Can you hear me? Open your eyes!”

“-m n-t deaf,” his voice was strained, but audible enough for Logan to be satisfied that Virgil was conscious.

Figuring it was pointless trying to stop the bleeding, Logan glanced around in search of a way to quickly get the other to their home. Before they could suggest anything, Virgil coughed and groaned in pain as he moved to stand.

“What are doing? You shouldn’t be moving.” Despite their protests, Logan pulled Virgil’s good arm over their shoulder to help him stand.

“-oman?”

“He would have left by now,” They assured; stumbling slightly under the others weight. “Haefen was just sealing his cut when I left to collect more runes. I’m sure he will -“

“Logan?”

Logan had never been more pleased to hear their Father’s voice as the physician jogged down the dampened path. Haefen was on Virgil’s other side soon enough, injured arm over his shoulder; Virgil let out a gasp as the pair scooped up his legs to carry him back to their chambers.

“What is your evaluation so far, Logan?”

“Blood loss from deep gash on left arm,” Their voice was strained from carrying Virgil’s weight, but Logan was never one to pass up an opportunity to perfect their craft. “Possible concussion. Multiple rib fractures or breaks that have caused pneumothorax on his left side.”

“-ngl-sh, Lo,” Virgil’s head lolled back as his consciousness slipped again.

“Stay awake for us, Virgil.” Haefen insisted as they reached the back door; Logan taking the injured man’s weight again while their father opened the door.

Gaining only a mumbled reply, Logan simplified their explanation while they settled Virgil onto an adjustable bed.

“To put it simply, you are tired from blood loss and that knock to the head,” Virgil winced as Logan adjusted the beds angle and started removing his shirt. “Your lung has collapsed, making breathing difficult as well.”

“Well done, Logan.” Haefen smiled at his child, passing them a tray of supplies for suturing. “You can handle his arm and forehead; I’ll handle everything else.”

The numbing potion that ran through his veins dulled the pain, but Virgil could feel every pull of thread through his arm, and the confusing sensation of an air rune pulling excess air from his chest to reinflate his lung. He did his best to stay conscious while the healers worked; focusing his soul magic to speed up the healing process. Using magic for healing was a difficult and complex craft that required just as much precision as spell crafting and weapons magic. Using a mix of potion-based remedies and natural runes, healers could piece a body back together and halve the natural recovery time of serious injuries. Despite a healer’s abilities though, if the patient didn’t have the soul magic to support the healing the efforts would be futile. To his advantage, Virgil had soul magic to spare and his ability to focus it where Haefen and Logan needed it was making their work faster. Regardless of how much magic he was willing to give, Haefen was against using too much healing magic in one session and potentially disrupting the bodies instinct to heal.

“That will do,” Haefen concluded, securing bandages soaked in a cooling gel around Virgil’s torso. “We’ll control bruising and pain for now and see how you fair tomorrow. Though knowing you, your body will take over the healing on its own.”

“Glad I’m built to take a beating.”

Logan rolled their eyes as they helped Virgil take a drink from a clay mug; limbs still heavy and untrustworthy from the numbing.

“You shouldn’t have to be taking abuse like this though, Virgil.” A sullen look was in Haefen’s eyes as he took a seat with his own mug. “You, of all people, have the opportunity to sto-“

“I’m not telling, Roman.” Eyes closing as he leaned back now his drink was done. “More bad than good will come from it.”

“What is the worst thing that could happen?” Logan grumbled, turning from his position at the sink. “The King is already abusing anyone who missteps in his path. Personal runes are becoming more expensive to craft. Those labelled Gifted are under increasing scrutiny and restricted in their practice, and any magic experimentation is considered an act of Dark Sorcery. How many citizens have you seen dragged to the cells under suspicion of sorcery, in the last season alone?”

Virgil didn’t need to open his eyes, Logan’s tone alone told him they were fuming. He had seen enough from his times on late night guard duty, but the healers would have seen the aftermath daily. Not all were as beaten as him, but it was still more than the seemingly peaceful city should have to endure. Especially the hunting and speculation of sorcerers. It was completely illogical for so many citizens to be accused of dark sorcery. Dark sorcerers were unnaturally born from greedy individuals attempting to mix natural and soul magic within the body without runes. Not only was the action deadly and painful, but those who succeeded were scarred by nature. Light sorcerers, on the other hand, were naturally born, extremely rare individuals with natural and soul magic in their bodies. Generations before, they were considered royalty in their own right and served as equals in royal courts; though they had been banned from the kingdom of Azmar following a previous King’s death during a sorcerer assassination attempt.

“Not. Happening.” Virgil tested his ability to sit up, but his chest screamed in pain as he engaged his core muscles, and he let out a hiss in pain.

“Take it slow,” warned the physician, “anyone else would be immobilised for hours.”

“I think we’ve already established that I’m not normal,” sliding his legs to the floor, Virgil sat and allowed himself time to get used to his aching chest.

“Give me a reason,” Virgil turned to look at Logan. They stood perfectly still, eyes staring intently through their small working glasses. “I will keep your secret no longer, unless you give me a _real_ reason why you won’t use your connection with Roman, or the Queen, to help us.”

“Logan-“ Virgil raised his hand to silence Haefen.

He knew Logan had a point and they deserved an answer. They had been freely treating Virgil for years and helping come up with all manner of excuses to cover up his absences from Roman. Despite their history, he didn’t doubt that Logan would indeed speak to the Prince if they were given reason to. Keeping his head and voice low, Virgil spoke freely.

“I was 14 when Roman went with his mother to visit his cousins. I thought it was an honour when the King asked me to stay behind, but it was just an excuse for him to speak his truths.”

Logan lowered their head as they recalled discovering Virgil in the stables, sobbing uncontrollably with a bloodied lip.

“He made it perfectly clear then that I was an unwelcome guest to his family. A filthy outcast living on borrowed time. I witnessed what the King was truly like behind the mask he wore for his family; his love for Queen Alexandra. I lost my light after that. But Roman…”

Blighting his lip to stop the tears that threatened to spill from his eyes, Virgil took a breath and looked over to Logan.

“Roman thinks the world of his Father, and the city. I see the light in his eyes every day. That is the only thing that keeps me going. If I … if I tell him the truth, I would be taking away his light too, and potentially make things worse for everyone. I won’t do that to him, Logan.”

Logan met Virgil’s eyes as pained tears slipped from them.

“I _can’t_ do that to, Roman. It would kill me in more ways than one.”

“Okay,” swiping tears from beneath their glasses, Logan nodded apologetically. “I will stay true to my word for you, Virgil.”

“Thank you, Logan.”

“All right you two. If matters are settled, I promised to send word to the prince.”

“Thank you for your services again, Haefen.”

Virgil went to stand but his legs gave out, causing him to lean heavily against the physician; thankfully on his good side, but his chest still screamed in protest. He allowed himself to be seated back on the beds edge, arching his back in an attempt to relieve his discomfort.

“I tell you every time to take it slow. You’ll undo my work if you act so rashly.”

“If you send word for Roman,” grunted Virgil, “and he finds me here still, questions will be asked.”

“And if he catches you stumbling through the halls, even more questions will be asked.”

“I’ll help return Virgil to his chambers,” Logan offered, grabbing a vile from the shelf and tucking it into their pant pocket. “I’ll give him a dose of sleeping draught, watch over him until Roman’s eventual arrival and we claim exhaustion from the healing.”

“Why the sleeping draught?” Virgil questioned, accepting a cloak Haefen offered him.

“To ensure you don’t do anything stupid for at least a couple of hours.”

Logan was glad to see a smile spread across their friend’s face; they rarely got to see it aimed at them and it was validating to achieve one. While Haefen went out the castles inner door to send word to Roman, the others went out the back to make their way around to the staff chambers where Virgil lived.

**********

The library was Roman’s least favourite place to be. It was closed in, smelt musty and was generally just too quiet for his liking ; even with the scholars droning on. Unfortunately, studying was still expected of the nineteen-year-old as he was behind his general age group in academics. Give him a sword to swing, ask him to fight in hand to hand combat, or command him to run laps of the inner walls and Roman was a happy man. But ask him for the formula for a simple poison, demand he writes a rune alone or question his knowledge of history and he was lost. More so today without Virgil.

Though they had graduated at seventeen with the others, they chose to continue to attend lessons with Roman. He appreciated the gesture. It was less humiliating to sit with a friend, than it was to sit at the wooden table alone; eyes of those younger and smarter than him boring into the back of his skull. He was thankful when a messenger whispered in his ear that Virgil had returned to their chambers.

“Might I ask where you think you are going, sire?” The scholar watching over the group stood before Roman’s table as he quickly began to pack up his things. “Your lesson is not yet complete, and you have already missed two this week.”

“And this will make it two and a half.” Quipped the Prince, passing the text he had been reading to them. “I will see you next week, Master Klein.”

Roman strode out of the library before anyone else questioned him; not that they would stand in his way regardless.

When Roman finally reached the staff chambers, Logan was mending the blood-soaked fabric of Virgil’s torn shirt, the other resting soundly.

“Good afternoon, sire.” Logan glanced up over their glasses, fingers still guiding the needle in their hand. “I heard that you were partaking in your studies for at least a little while longer.”

“Pleasure to see you too, Logan.” Taking a seat on the beds edge, Roman looked at Virgil in confusion and concern. “What’s wrong with him? I didn’t think I wounded him that badly.”

“You are not entirely at fault, sire.”

“Roman.” Logan paused and looked up at the prince in confusion, but Roman’s eyes were still on his friend. “…you can call me Roman here. I get enough of that formal stuff outside.”

“Very well. As I was saying…Roman… Virgil is merely suffering from exhaustion. He should wake before his evening duties.”

Relief flooded the prince’s features as he smiled up at Logan; in that moment, they swore they saw a glimpse of the light Virgil had mentioned. It wasn’t hard to understand why they wanted to protect it.

Finishing their mending, Logan rose to their feet; clearing their throat to gain Roman’s attention.

“I’ll take these out to be cleaned.” Roman nodded but didn’t move. “I assure you; he will be perfectly fine, Roman. You needn’t stay.”

“Thanks, Specs, but I’d prefer to be here than in the library.”

Logan scrunched up their nose at the nickname but made no attempt to voice their distaste. It was better than any gendered term people had used for them before. 

“I will admit, I don’t share your avoidance of the library, but I understand your decision. However, should you tire of waiting in silence I know Virgil keeps some books in his side drawer.”

“Thank you, for everything, Logan.”

“You are most welcome, Roman,” and with that, they left them alone.

**********

Roman lasted an hour, at most; tiring quickly of reading or sitting in silence. He decided to while away the afternoon by tending to the horses in the stables, happy to relieve the usual stable hands of their duties. The animals had always been a source of comfort for him, and he didn’t mind the unclean nature of their care. It was something he did whenever Virgil was busy with duties that he couldn’t assist with; which was becoming increasingly common. Roman barely noticed the sun was setting until the stables darkened and quickly bid the beasts goodnight before rushing to change for dinner.

Freshly showered, Roman entered the royal dining room to find his father already seated and waiting; Virgil and his mother’s chairs left vacant.

“You are late, Roman.” King Rupert looked up from paperwork set before him and gestured his hand at the waiting servants.

“Apologies, Father, I got distracted while training by the fields edge; completely lost track of time. How is Mother and where is Virgil?”

“Your mother is resting and received food in her chambers.” Roman took his seat and a servant lay a napkin across his lap and filled his drinking glass. “I am pleased to see your face has healed well.”

“I told you the scratch was nothing, but what of Virgil? Surely, he would have woken by now. Have you called for him? I can go fetch him if required.”

“There is no need for that, Roman. It is just you and I this evening.”

“Is Virgil alright?”

He didn’t bother hiding the worry from his voice. Virgil missed dinners on the odd occasion but considering how Roman had seen him earlier, he was worried for his wellbeing.

“You needn’t concern yourself, Roman. Word is that he was resting in his chambers and didn’t want to be disturbed.”

The discussion was put to rest as servants entered with plates of food. Roman recognised Val, a performer and pastry maker, as she placed a tray in front of him. Leaning close, he quickly whispered into her ear.

“ _Ensure Virgil receives his dinner for me._ ” Keeping her eyes straight, Val nodded and continued her duties.

Though Roman didn’t fully understand the reasons behind it, he could tell his Father was lying that night. He kept his thoughts to himself; continuing his usual evening habit of retelling his day to his father. Though he avoided the truth of the afternoon, pretending instead that he had gone to the gardens to complete his learning in peace before returning to the training fields to practice.

******

“Are you decent, Virgil?”

Val peaked around the door to Virgil’s chambers; seeing the young man laying still on the bed, she entered the room and set her tray of food on the side table. The sound of metal on wood was enough to stir the sleeping man and she was glad to see his eyes flutter open groggily.

“How are you feeling, sleepy head?”

“Val?” His throat was dry, causing him to cough painfully and he stiffly sat up to seek water.

“Hold on,” moving swiftly, Val assisted Virgil in sitting up fully and offered a cup of water. “Word is that the Prince sliced your arm during a duel, but that doesn’t explain this.”

“It’s a cough, Val. My throat was dry.”

“Just a cough is it,” she neither believed, nor was impressed with his lies. “Then I should be able to do this-“

She reached her hand forward and Virgil flinched away from Val’s touch, concealing another hiss of pain but unable to hide the grimace on his face.

“Lie to the Prince all you want, Virge, but don’t lie to me. What happened?”

“If dinner comes with an interrogation, I’d rather starve.” Folding his arms carefully across his chest, Virgil looked away in the hopes that Val would simply leave.

“Fine, don’t tell me.” Standing, she headed towards the door; leaving the tray of food behind. “I know we don’t know each other well, but I thought you saw me as a friend at least.”

“I do see you as a friend.” Val paused in the doorway, not looking back. “I have enough friends carrying my burden. I do not wish to add you to that list.”

“That is a shame. Do you want me to call Logan for you? Your arm is bleeding.”

Looking down, Virgil saw the crimson stain appearing on his bandaged arm. “I would appreciate that very much, Val.”

It wasn’t more than 5 minutes before Logan arrived, a leather satchel of supplies over their shoulder.

“I thought you weren’t going to do anything stupid,” Logan grumbled as they walked over to sit by Virgil’s injured side.

“Does it help if I say I tried?”

“Hardly.”

Virgil continued to pick his dinner, while Logan undid the bandages on his arm. The skin beneath was more bruised then earlier, half the sutures were pulled from their positions while the other half remained in place in the partially healed wound.

“Care to explain how this occurred?” Logan asked while removing their suture kit and numbing potion from the satchel.

“Not really,” he shrugged in reply.

Logan didn’t push the topic; they could draw basic conclusions on their own. Placing a few drops of potion in the wound, they set to work restitching it together. Wrapping a healing cloth around his arm, Logan activated the rune long enough to reduce the wounds depth again.

“That will do for now. I’m not suturing or healing you again today.”

“If all goes well, you won’t have to, Logan.”

“I should hope so.” After rebandaging his arm, Logan packed up their supplies before handing a small vial to Virgil. “Take that for the pain when you’re ready.”

“Thank you, Logan. Again.”

“Seeing you twice in one day is enjoyable; though I would prefer for it to be under different circumstances, if you would be so kind.”

“I’ll do my best to change that.” Virgil gave a pained laugh, though it was honest all the same. “Can I ask one more thing of you today?”

“Technically you just did, but proceed all the same.”

“Escort me to the tower for my duty? You can take the rest of my dinner as payment.”

Logan smiled, helping Virgil to stand and wrapping their hand cautiously around his waist. “I don’t wish to have your scraps, Virgil. The only repayment I seek is for you to answer one of my questions truthfully.”

“You drive a hard bargain, Lo, but I accept.”

“Good. I look forward to trading in that truth.”

**********

The castle was quiet as Roman snuck out of his chambers; ducking in and out of corridors to avoid the regular guard patrols. He and Virgil use to play hide and seek well into the night as children and the skills they had developed then stuck with him now. Keeping his cloak hood low to block out the winds, Roman crossed the yards to reach the guard tower he knew Virgil would be working in.

“Somebody request a royal meeting?” Roman whispered behind Virgil, causing the other to jump and wince in pain.

“Really, Roman? Warn a dude next time.” He rubbed his arm to feign that his pain was from that injury alone.

“Sorry, but aren’t you meant to be the vigilant guard?” Standing next to his friend, Roman looked out over the sleeping city with a smile before returning his concern to Virgil. “I missed you at dinner. Did Val deliver the food I requested?”

“Sorry, I had sleep to catch up on,” Virgil replied, eyes never shifting from their watch. “ but yeah, I got the food. Thanks.”

“I feel like I’m saying this a lot today but… I’m sorry for your arm I-“

“Chill out, Princey. It was a duel. Blood had to be shed.”

“Well yes, but-“

“Let it go, Roman. I’m fine.” Glancing to the side he saw that the Prince was not convinced. “Logan and Haefen did a fine job, just like they did with your ugly mug.”

“So, then why were you asleep for so long? I know it was a deep gash, but you shouldn’t have been that exhausted.”

“Well I did have someone wake me quite early,” raising his eyebrow Virgil feigned seriousness until they both broke out into smiles.

“I promise to spare you of that tomorrow.”

“I’ll hold you to it. You should get going. We can chat tomorrow because I am sure this is eating into your beauty rest.”

“And I don’t want to end up looking like you.” He placed his hand on Virgil’s good shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. “Will you seek me out when you wake?”

“I always do.”

Roman headed back to his room, feeling more at ease now he had seen Virgil awake and standing. He didn’t realise how heavy the weight of his friend’s injury was on his heart until it was lifted. Things still didn’t quite add up in his mind though; mainly Virgil’s exhaustion. However. without evidence he wouldn’t broach the subject; knowing that would get them nowhere but an argument. For now, he would continue as normal and hope Virgil spoke to him when they were ready.

**********

The vision came hard and fast. Room spinning and body hitting the floor before friendly arms could catch them.

_Plunged into darkness; senses dulled until the silhouette of a boy is highlighted in a white light. Turning, the boy shows a featureless face; purple appearing to bleed from where eyes should have been. A flash of light and the view is of the kingdom; black clouds encroaching on the blue sky. Another flash, and a stream of green water runs before their disembodied feet. A crow caws, drawing their attention, and drinks from the water before morphing into a horse that bolts forward. A flash and he is riding the horse through long grass, a wolf appears to run along the left side and a deer with a snake around its neck on the right. The animals halt at the cliff edge as they look out over the burning castle remains; a dragon’s roar echoing in their ears. He blinks and returns to the darkness, only the silhouette had been replaced with a sword coated in blood. Reaching out a shaking hand to touch the blade, he freezes as the sound of his own screaming overloads his senses._

“Hey! Hey! You back with me?”

“…yes.”

“What did you see?”

“I need your help to do something.”

**********

“Hello, Little Prince.”

Roman jolted up in his bed, hand automatically searching for the blade that should have been under his pillow as his groggy mind struggled to focus his magic.

“Looking for this?” The voice questioned, holding the blade out of the shadows that were concealing them.

“Who are you? Show yourself!” The Prince demanded, eyes scanning for other possible weapons and cursing the servants for keeping his room so clean.

Though he felt awake, Roman still couldn’t focus enough to summon his sword and he despised the feeling of helplessness that crept into his gut.

“My pleasure,” the figure stepped forward, moonlight refracting off yellow scales that covered half their face. “I am-“

The stranger had begun to bow when Roman exclaimed, “a dark sorcerer! What business do you have here?”

“Humph, rude.” The man straightened and adjusted the capelet on his shoulders. “Were you taught no manners?”

“I asked you a question, you fiend.” Roman slid out from his covers, taking a fighting stance before his intruder, while the other sighed in annoyance.

“Clearly, you have no sense of etiquette so I will cut to the chase.” The man threw Roman’s knife onto the bed and held his arms up; allowing his sleeves to fall back from gloved hands. “I am not here to cause you any harm.”

Roman eyed his knife but made no move to retrieve it. “Why are you here then?”

“I was sent with a warning.” Keeping his hands clearly in view, he took slow steps towards the open window; which was allowing a gentle breeze to cool the room. He gestured out as he spoke, “The fates have presented a prophecy of sorts.”

“I don’t believe in the fates. They hold no influence over me.” Roman growled, knowing the negative effects trusting the fates offered.

“Oh, sweetie, just because you don’t believe in them, doesn’t mean they don’t believe in you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Roman stepped to the side and positioned himself closer to the knife.

“Believe or disbelieve, you decide, but heed these words,” Roman felt the room chill as the man’s left eye glowed yellow. “Your arrogance is soon to cause you great pain. Follow the path of pride, and you shall die. Adjust your behaviour or you’ll meet the same fate as your brother.”

“I have no brother,” Roman spat; “your prophecy is fraught with lies.”

“Whether I speak truth or lies is for you to decide, but my words are mine. Do with them as you will.”

“How about I do away with you!”

Roman grabbed his knife and threw it at the intruder’s head. The blade struck true, though the snake eyed man barely flinched as the blade embedded into his skull.

“My job here is done, Little Prince, though I shan’t forget your treatment of me.”

He raised a suddenly ungloved hand and snapped his fingers. Roman felt a rush of wind before he jolted up in his bed again. Only this time the sun was on the horizon and his knife was exactly where is should have been.

**********

In the West Forest, the man opened their own eyes and let out an exhausted breath; sagging into their chair.

“Is it done?” asked a small voice.

“I passed your precious message on as best I could, though I doubt he will heed or understand the warning.” Massaging his temples, the snake eyed man leaned forward and stared down at the warm brew that was resting before him. “I still don’t understand why you are so insistent on this?”

“Do you not want your name and freedom returned, Snake?”

‘Snake’ raised his head and looked into the haunting eyes of the ‘man’ before him. “You know that is all that I seek in this world.”

“Then we must save my brother.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading and I do hope you are enjoying the world I am creating. In my initial planning, this was all meant to be in the first chapter, but I thought that was a little too much information for a first chapter.  
> Next Chapter: Patton? Where are you? Roman's weakness and Virgil's nightmares.
> 
> A new character appeared!  
> Logan Rae Lason: they|them pronouns; apprentice physician to their Father Haefen Lason; their Mother, Clara Lason, is the Queen's personal physician; wears large squared glasses or smaller rounded glasses depending on how they are feeling; prefers colours with darker hues (unlike their father), mainly navy blue; has always known of Virgil and Roman but only started interacting with Virgil when the abuse started; avoids Roman so they don't accidentally say or do anything that would cause trouble. 
> 
> Author admission: I love Logan but writing this Logan and my ‘Libraries are for meetings’ Logan at the same time is tough. I used the wrong pronouns so many times in my initial drafts and kept on kicking myself for it. If I ever do use the wrong pronouns for them, please please please let me know. It upsets me every time I find the error, but I don’t want them misgendered (no one deserves that).


	3. A Deer Friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chance meetings can be shocking but often play a big part. Patton makes a new friend that will change his life, while Virgil and Logan meet old friends that leave them thinking about the future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey 👋 so this chapter includes a link to some art done by [@fanartfunart](https://fanartfunart.tumblr.com/) on Tumblr (I’ve included a link below the image to see their Tumblr post). Now, please please please do not repost this art. This means, do not COPY and PASTE (or screenshot) it onto your own post on any social media channel.
> 
> If you like the art, reblog the Tumblr post ([*art by @fanartfunart*](https://fanartfunart.tumblr.com/post/186738195170/a-commission-for-snail-giggles-for-a-future)). Don’t have Tumblr? Share the Tumblr page link on other socials. Just please don’t repost. Respect the artist and give them the love and appreciation they deserve

**_\- years prior - near a small farming village on the edge of the west forest -_ **

Brown curls shifted in the gentle breeze as the boy, not long turned 12, stood poised with his arrow aimed at a target ahead of him. Glass framed by wood assisted trained eyes in watching leaves shift with the wind; waiting for them to still before releasing the arrow.

"Dead centre again. Do you ever miss, Pat?"

Patton lowered his bow and turned to his younger brother, Remy, who was marching up the track in his usual attire; grey shirt with a dark brown jacket pulled over the top. He craned his head to look behind his brother, brow furrowing in confusion.

"Where's our little Quiver?" It was odd to see him without their youngest brother clinging to his back.

"Just Bow and Arrow today-" he extended his arms and looked down with a half-smile - " Sorry I'm not enough. Quiver was still sleeping when I came back from my chores."

Remy accepted the bow that Patton held out for him, discarding his leather satchel on the ground and continuing forward to retrieve the arrow from its hold.

"You are more than enough, Arrow." Hands now free, Patton removed his glasses and pulled his blue shirt from his belt to clean the glass. "Unusual for him to sleep so late though."

"Yeah, well, Mother said he is a little feverish, but there isn't anything to worry about." The arrow required only a slight wiggle to remove from the target and Remy inspected the tip while he walked back to Patton.

"Maybe I should go back and check on him."

"No! Please," Remy begged; racing forward to grab his brothers arm and stop him from leaving. "We hardly ever get to train alone anymore."

Patton looked into his brother’s eyes; begging for their lost time alone. It dawned on him just how little time they had spent together lately as he selfishly allowed their youngest brother to participate in all their training sessions. With the farm requiring so much attention and Patton taking on extra work with a baker, moments for archery practice for the brothers were far and in-between. Sighing, Patton returned his glasses and neatened his shirt before nodding; Remy quickly setting himself up to take aim at the target. Though he still worried for his youngest brother, Patton had to trust Remy's word that nothing was wrong and give his sibling his full attention for at least a few hours.

Their final arrow sailed past the target again and Remy threw the bow down in frustration; fixing the untouched target with a death glare.

"COME ON! Can't I do one thing straight in my life!"

Ruffling his hair, Patton moved forward to search for the discarded arrows. "Don't despair little, Arrow. You'll get there eventually.

Grumbling, Remy followed, and they began sifting through the leaf litter to find arrows and fill Patton's signature quiver. Rustling caught their attention and Remy looked over his shoulder to see Patton standing before a magnificent, grey deer with blue patterning on its face. Their eyes seemed to be locked and neither flinched at Remy's approach; his own eyes wide in fear and awe.

"It's beautiful," Remy whispered; resting a hand on his brothers back and leaning in close.

"A creature of magic," his voice was calm and confident as Patton reached a tentative hand out, encouraging the deer to move closer.

The blue marks on the deer's face shimmered in the sunlight that escaped the forests canopy, confirming Patton's suspicion of magic. While all creatures had soul magic like humans, some were also blessed with natural magic and served as spirit guides or assisted the seasons in changing. Though neither boy could read runes, the deer's colouring was enough for them to assume its connection to winter.

[*Art by @fanartfunart*](https://fanartfunart.tumblr.com/post/186738195170/a-commission-for-snail-giggles-for-a-future)

Stretching its neck forward, the deer closed its eyes and lent into Patton's hand; fingers shifting in soft fur to scratch the creatures head. Patton could feel the soul magic in his fingers connecting with that of the animal; an icy but reassuring sensation ran up his arm and he felt his body heat and cool simultaneously. Eyes opening, Patton saw a rune glowing blue in the deer's eyes and Remy gasped as Patton's suddenly did the same.

"You're a sorcerer."

Patton looked at his little brother; their words had come out as barely a whisper, choked by fear. Eye's returning to normal, Patton realised he had been holding his breath and gasped; hand still on the deer's cold fur. Fear flooded the young boy’s eyes before he wrapped his arms tightly around Patton’s middle, hands slipping securely beneath the leather quiver on his back. The action snapped Patton's mind out of a trance, and he could finally release the deer to stroke his now sobbing brothers head.

"It's okay, Remy. I'm ok."

"No-o." He kept his face pressed against the faded blue fabric of his brother’s shirt, "They'll get you. You'll be taken away or-or-"

Patton firmly grabbed Remy's shoulders and pushed him back, forcing them both into direct eye contact. His voice was firm but comforting all the same.

"Listen to me now, Remy. I am not going anywhere. Nothing is going to happen to me. I promise."

He waited until his brother nodded, before pulling him back into a hug; glancing to the side to watch the deer as it made its way back into the forest.

Patton had always felt he was different, but never acted on his magic abilities; preferring to remain with his family on the farm. It was safer to avoid magic work, than admit he was something more and risk imprisonment by the King. The confirmation of his gift wasn't going to change anything in Patton's mind. He would always put his family before anything else in the world. Though his heart was in the right place, Patton should never have made that promise to Remy. You can't make a promise about something you can't control, and unfortunately the fates did not work in his favour.

**************Present Day**************

When Virgil finally opened his eyes, he was both surprised and grateful to reach his right hand out to the sun rune clock and see the sun had been up for at least 5 hours. Adding to the fact that the next guard was on time for once, he had managed to get a full 8 hours of uninterrupted sleep. Carefully shifting into a sitting position, grunting as his body protested to the movement, Virgil looked around the room. The chambers were designed to house the staff of visitors to the castle; beds with a chest at the foot and lockable cupboards lined the walls. Only the corner where Virgil slept had the addition of a small desk, an open shelf and a larger cupboard for his clothes.

His eyes caught on a savoury muffin sitting on top of his side drawers; a smile pulling at his lips reading the note from Roman. _Hope you got some beauty sleep. Father has requested my presence all morning, so can we meet at the spell crafters after noon? Enjoy the muffin curtesy of Val. - Roman_

He made short work of his breakfast, before carefully making his way to the communal bathrooms. Stepping into a small cubicle, Virgil removed his clothes and the now useless bandages; runes gone now the magic had run its course. Despite the ache in his chest, it wasn’t surprising for Virgil to find his torso clear of bruising; it was the area he had focused majority of his soul magic throughout the evening and he was rewarded with his abuse hidden. The same could not be said for his arm as it throbbed when stray droplets of water ran down as he washed his hair; bruising ringed the stitched wound, a swirling mix of blue, purple and green. As much as he hated it, he knew he would have to see Haefen again for some ointment or potion to reduce his pain enough for him to train like normal.

Fully clothed, Virgil set off down the halls to reach the kitchens; stomach hardly satisfied with his meagre breakfast. As the kitchens neared, the halls were filled with the lingering scent of the mornings bread and fried meat. Pace quickening, Virgil gasped in shock and pain as he rounded the corner and bumped into what appeared to be a woman with greying hair and a simple purple gown.

“Oh dear, pardon me - Virgil?”

Pain faded to the back of his mind as Virgil realised who stood before him.

“Adara!” Instinctively, he pulled them into an embrace; half thankful that they appeared to sense his injury and favoured his right side. “It’s been nearly 4 years. I’ve missed you.”

Leaning back, Adara reached up to caress Virgil’s cheek. “My little boy has grown into a fine young man.” Their hand trailed down to rest on his chest, eyes saddening at Virgil’s instinctive reaction to flinch. “Is it fair to assume Rupert has not gotten kinder in my absence?”

“It’s fine, Adara." He grabbed their hand and gently lowered it, "You needn’t concern yourself over my wellbeing anymore.”

Despite Virgil’s words fire burned in their eyes. Adara had served in the nursery, assisting the Queen in caring for Roman, and then Virgil when the Queen took him in as well. They shared their chambers with the orphan boy and were just as much of a parental figure as the Queen. Though they were cast out of the castle after confronting the King about Virgil's harsh treatment; making their presence in the city bittersweet.

"I will never stop caring for my boys. Either of you."

"And it's almost cost you your life." Virgil held them out at arm’s length, concern thick in his voice. "How and why are you even here now? You were banished from the city."

"It's fine, sweetie." The anxious look in his eyes told them he was not convinced. "I snuck one of my young wards in for treatment with Haefen. We'll be out of the city in no time. Trust your old Bibi knows what they are doing."

"Last time I trusted you, I had to watch you leave."

Silence fell between them and eye contact was lost in favour of the stone floor. Adara knew they could not argue with the truth; they truly had failed Virgil that day and quite possibly made the boy’s situation worse. It was never her intention, but nothing could change it now. The damage had been done.

"I'm sorry; you are right. I should have been more cautious with my words and actions." Looking up, Adara tried to find Virgil's eyes again; easy thanks to his new height. "I swear I will be careful not to make my presence known to the wrong parties. Okay?”

Nodding, Virgil pulled them close for a final hug. “Stay safe.”

“Same goes for you,” A single tear trailed down their cheek, “take care of yourself.”

“I do my best, but you should go.” Stepping back, they each swiped the tears from their faces. “Your window for leaving undetected will be small.”

“Seek me out one day, won’t you? I would love to see both my boys again.”

“Roman should be granted more freedom outside of the city soon. I’m sure we could make a detoured journey one day.”

“I look forward to it. Until then,” Virgil stepped around them, feeling his legs begin to shake from exhaustion and needing to encourage Adara to leave. “I love you, young one.”

“I love you too, Adara.” Thankful he had managed to have his back to his parental figure, Virgil hurried along to reach the kitchens and find food to stop his body from trembling.

It tore at their heart to head in the opposite direction of Virgil, but Adara knew they had no choice. They had hoped to avoid running into either of their old wards, but the fates had never been kind. Haefen had already warned that King Rupert wasn’t growing kinder with time, but that still hadn’t prepared them. The pain in his eyes. The way his body instinctively tensed before softening. Years of working to gain the boys trust, only to lose him to the abusive King; the equivalent of training a timid rabbit to be brave and then leaving it with a pack of wolves. There was much that Adara regretted in their life but going to the King instead of the Queen was one of their greatest regrets. Things may have been different if that path had been followed.

************************

Logan packed away their medical equipment after ensuring it was completely sanitised. The infirmary was much quieter now the knights had left; their laughing and ridiculous jokes about maiming each other made the young physicians blood boil. Working in the infirmary was the worst part of their day and they much preferred to work with their father. Nothing against the other physicians, they were just as skilled as Haefen, but the space didn’t have the same feel as their home. The general infirmary was an open space with rows of beds and trolleys loaded with rune bandages and pre-prepared potions; while their home was compact and allowed them access to personalised runes and supplies for mixing their own potions. It felt better to work in their own environment, but to be considered more than an apprentice they needed to be observed by people other than their mother and father.

“Skilful work this morning, Logan.” A tall woman with cropped blond hair walked over; placing their own equipment into the nearby sink to begin rinsing them off. “Your stitching is immaculate, and I honestly have nothing to fault you on today.”

“Thank you, Tate. It was a rather average morning; hardly an opportunity to develop my skills further.” Packing their satchel, Logan was surprised to find Tate frowning at them.

“Until you have experienced the harshness of the field, do not complain about the mundanity of my infirmary. Do we have an understanding?”

Logan was tempted to comment on the number of broken people they had seen in their home, but they knew it wouldn’t compare to the true nature of field work. Only Haefen’s stories gave them a glimpse into the intensities of working from limited supplies in an unsanitary area.

“My apologies. I didn’t intend for my comments to cause offence.”

“You are still young, Logan-“

“I’m twenty-one.”

“That is young. You are but a toddler in the area of medicine; regardless of how much your parents have taught you. Be thankful for what the fates have given you; for they could take it all away without a moment’s notice. Peace is not to be taken for granted.”

They stifled the urge to roll their eyes, nodding and ducking their head instead. “I understand and I shall be more considerate when I return tomorrow. May I be excused for the day?”

“You may. See you tomorrow, Logan.”

Leaving the infirmary, Logan sighed and hoped that this wasn’t as peaceful as the city would be. If peace meant people could be beaten without consequence, then they didn’t want it. Stepping outside, the sunlight warmed their face as they headed around the castle to reach their house. Taking the outside route was much more pleasant than using the castles inner halls. The linking inner halls were wonderful during harsh winters but came across as suffocating during the seasons that offered clearer skies. A smile easily spread across their face as they spotted Virgil exiting the castle from the opposite side of the courtyard. They eagerly quickened their pace to intercept him, curious to find out how they had responded to yesterday’s treatments.

“Good day to you, Virgil.”

Tired eyes looked up at the sound of their voice. “I appreciate your optimism, Logan. You here to cash in your truth?”

“What? No.” They tried to hide the hurt in their voice at Virgil’s accusation. “I just finished work in the infirmary and saw you. I wasn’t seeking you out or anything.”

Sensing their hurt, Virgil felt guilty for making such a judgement against the man who had freely healed him on multiple occasions. “Sorry, Lo. I’m just tired. I didn’t mean to-“

“How much sleep did you have?”

“What? Um, 8 hours, I guess. Look, I -“ Logan stood in front of Virgil and took hold of his wrist to feel his pulse; staring at his pupils’ reactions. “What are you doing?”

“Have you eaten?”

“Obviously. I’m not a-“

“Have you taken any relievers this morning?”

“Not yet, but it’s fine I-“

“Nope. Let’s go.”

Logan wasn’t having any of Virgil’s stubbornness that morning; practically dragging him around to the back of their chambers. It was jarring for Virgil; he had never seen Logan acting so forcefully; but he guessed it had something to do with the fact that his injuries were more serious than a bruised face or fractured wrist.

Haefen hardly appeared surprised when Logan entered with Virgil in tow.

“Considering the significant lack of blood, am I safe in assuming this is a potion visit?”

“Hey, Haefen.” Virgil took a seat diligently, while Logan started grabbing various jars and vials from the shelf and setting water to boil. “I would answer your question, but I just came along for the ride.”

“Father, can you inspect Virgil's injuries while I craft a reliever for him? I believe he used more magic than we initially predicted.”

Virgil shook his head and rolled his eyes as Haefen grabbed his wrist and stared at him just as Logan had earlier. “I think you are overreacting. I’m just tired and sore. Nothing exactly ground-breaking going on-what is that for?”

The large needle in Logan’s hand had Virgil’s eyes widening, causing Haefen’s face to contort in concern.

“Logan’s correct. Shirt off now, I need to assess some things.”

“You still haven’t explained the needle,” he grumbled; carefully removing his vest and shirt.

“It was to prove a point,” Haefen assured; hardly shocked to see his chest clear and moving to help unwrap his arm. “Though you showed a concerned reaction to the needle, your heart rate remained unnervingly low.”

In the few hours since he had woken, the gash on Virgil’s arm had healed further. The sutures were beginning to breakdown as his body used the natural magic held within them and they were no longer necessary to secure the wound shut. It still astounded both physicians, regardless of how many times they had witnessed his healing ability.

Logan held a mug out to Virgil, “Drink. The temperature should be balanced enough that it won’t burn you.”

Accepting the mug, Virgil did his best to ignore the discomfort of having Haefen’s hand resting on his chest; soul magic searching for injuries and making his chest tingle and burn. Raising the mug to his lips, he was expecting the warm concoction to be bitter and earthy like everything else Logan had mixed before; instead his tastebuds were overwhelmed with a confusing mix of spice and sweetness that had his chest convulsing in coughs.

“Woah,” Haefen took the mug from Virgil’s hand before any of the liquid could spill. “Take it easy.”

Logan sniggered before quickly jabbing Virgil’s arm with a small needle.

“Wha-da-f-k?” He finally managed to gasp out, frustrated by the grins that were now on both physicians faces.

“I know you don’t like needles, so I thought a distraction was necessary. Was it effective?”

“No!” Leaning back heavily against the chair, Virgil felt like his chest had been pierced by one of his flaming arrows. “I feel worse now than before you dragged me here.”

Haefen pulled out a familiar vial of blue, which Virgil accepted gratefully. “I am satisfied this process will restore your natural heart rhythm. Though I would advise you against any crafting or magic practice today. Logan’s assessment was correct, your soul magic is what caused your unusual rhythm. To be frank, most people I have come across with that little magic are unconscious.”

“Shall we add that to the list of reasons why I’m not normal?” Virgil was glad to feel the burning subside as the normal potion seemed to work its way through his system. “By the way, was there any benefit to that first potion or were you just messing with me?”

Logan’s face was serious as they wrapped a fresh bandage around his arm.

“Everything I do has a benefit, Virgil. Not only did that brew act as a distraction, it also encouraged the production of soul magic and included a herb combination that will either improve your energy levels or…” Both Virgil and Haefen raised their eyebrows expectantly as Logan secured the bandage in place and stood to wash their hands. “You could…potentially… respond to it like a mild sedative.”

“What do you mean potentially?” Virgil stood and followed Logan to the sink, ignoring the way his body swayed slightly as he stood beside them. “How can herbs have two vastly different effects?”

“The body is a very complex system and we have already established that you don’t respond to situations as we would expect.”

“I can’t be sedated. I’m meeting Roman at-t noo-“

All sense of space left Virgil as his mouth failed to cooperate and his eye lids grew heavy; swaying dangerously as his body numbed. Sighing, Logan pulled his arm over their shoulder and led him to a bed; carefully guiding him to lay down.

“I shall make a note that Virgil is among the 3% who react to the Dye-Smith combination negatively.” Logan turned to look at their father, a hint of fear in their eyes. “How angry do you think he will be when he wakes up?”

A comforting hand rested on their shoulder. “I would suggest you go out collecting after completing your chores.”

“I concur.”

************************

Roman was glad to finally be pardoned from the meeting room as the sun reached its midpoint; mind already forgetting half of what had just been discussed about relations with Pixma and Xican. The only thing he took away from the morning was that he was finally granted permission outside the city unaccompanied; meaning he and Virgil could ride without having a group of knights trailing behind them. Others took note of the obvious spring in the Prince’s step as he headed towards the spell crafting area; quickly moving out of his path and smiling supportively.

The crafting area was a visual wonder, a stone wall built around a large tree with a low, umbrella canopy forming a roof. Crafting runes required natural magic, pulled from the earth and fused with materials using soul magic. While natural magic was present in all places, it was easier to access at a focused location known as a source point; the crafting tree being one such point in the city.

Roman barely acknowledged the waiting patrons as he strolled passed, only registering that none of them were Virgil before continuing to head straight into the space. Faces dropped after Roman passed them, knowing they would have to wait even longer for their needs to be met with the Prince’s presence.

Squeezing his eyes shut as he was allowed through the main door, Roman blindly stepped through a black curtain before slowly reopening his eyes and allowing them to adjust to the new light. The crafting area of the inner wall was the largest source point in the area, with plentiful space for multiple crafters to be set up with their individual crafting crystals around the tree and small pond. Bioluminescent fungus and moss filled the area with a soft rainbow hue, while fireflies and glowing moths danced through the air and distracted his sight as he searched for Virgil.

A short, old man carefully stepped past the Prince as he finished with one of the furthest crafters; a round faced woman with wavy, brown hair that rested on the ground where she sat. Heart sinking slightly as he realised Virgil wasn’t there, Roman advanced to sit in the newly vacant position.

“Pleasure to see you, Vivian.” He beamed, trying to hide his true sadness.

“Honour to be of service, my Prince.” Vivian lowered a reed pen into the water; tiny glowing fish swarmed the pen to clean it of ink and magic. “I’m assuming we are touching up your current runes?”

Though he nodded, in truth, Roman had hoped to craft teleportation runes in anticipation for his first unsupervised missions. Unfortunately, he relied heavily on Virgil’s assistance when it came to runes and without him, he couldn’t possibly visualise the rune he needed; and he wasn’t about to admit his inabilities to Vivian. Thankfully, repowering current runes meant he had the rune already available and visualisation was simple.

Retrieving his belt, sash and wrist guards from his satchel, Vivian dried her hands and pen before dusting off the crystal slab and inspecting the runes they would be making.

“Seems you have gotten good ware from these runes, your highness. It shows exceptional control on your behalf.”

“Thank you, Vivian.” Roman glanced around the space again, the beauty having no calming effect as he wondered where Virgil was.

“Is there a problem, Prince Roman?” Worry caused Vivian’s brow to crease as one of the guards eyed their area at the sight of the Prince’s discomfort.

“My apologies, I was expecting to meet Virgil and I guess I’m a little distracted by his absence.”

“Oh,” relief filled Vivian’s chest as she realised Roman’s issue had nothing to do with her. “I’m sure he isn’t too far away. These runes should take no time at all to strengthen and you can be on your way. Let’s start with the collection on your belt.”

Trusting their word, Roman adjusted his sitting position and placed one hand on the crystal while the other hovered above the reed pen in Vivian’s hand. The crystal began to glow a soft green as Vivian pulled natural magic up from the earth; eyes closed, and mind focused on the purpose of the runes she had to write. Simultaneously, Roman pushed his soul magic forward, warming his hand as he channelled it into the reed pen in a soft yellow stream. Moving his magic was easy but focusing on the rune shapes was a challenge for the Prince; the pen in Vivian’s hand moving slowly as their magic and visions combined to form each rune. After the golden letters were formed, Vivian placed the belt on the crystal and the golden runes shifted, slotting into place on the belt with a flash before dulling to black.

Roman let out a quiet sigh, glad to see that the runes matched perfectly and hadn’t failed.

“Shall we move onto your sash?” Vivian questioned, noticing the slight shift in the prince’s demeanour.

Nodding, Roman prepared for the next set of runes; hoping Virgil would arrive before the session was over.

************************

Screams filled the darkness and Virgil felt nothing but fear. He had no idea who the screams belonged to, where they were coming from or why they made him feel so sad and alone. No matter how many times he dreamt about them, he couldn't remember anything about them. The darkness shifted and a knew memory filled his mind.

_Useless outsider!_

Strong hands pushed the teenage Virgil to the ground _._

_Don’t you dare cry in my presence!_

A callused hand scraped across a slightly older face with such force that his body crumbled to the ground.

_Remember your place!_

Staring in a mirror with blood running from his nose, Virgil squeezed his watering eyes shut to escape the image only to open them and see King Rupert’s boots in front of his kneeling form.

_If you can’t do your job properly…_

A leather boot met his face and his body was instantly knocked backwards. When his eyes opened a stone weight was held over his chest.

_… don’t bother living._

Reliving the pain of having the weight dropped on his chest was unbearable and Virgil found himself crying out as he jolted back into consciousness. Heart pounding in his ears and whole-body trembling, it took him a moment to realise the pain was only a phantom memory and the discomfort in his chest was from his rapid breathing.

“Are you okay, kiddo?”

Haefen was quite shaken from his patient’s sudden outburst, but the only answer he received was a mumbled “Roman” as Virgil was on his feet and heading out the door. By the time he poked his own head out the back door, the young man was already running towards the crafting area.

Nightmarish memories were nothing new for Virgil; the main reason he worked himself into exhaustion was to avoid having them at all.

_The only reason I haven't locked you up is because you serve a purpose to my son. If you can’t do your job, don’t bother living._

King Rupert’s words seemed to reverberate in his mind, only quieting as the crafting area came into view. The guards at the door caught sight of Virgil's rapidly approaching form and shared a knowing grin; preparing themselves for him to ask permission to enter and they could have some fun tormenting him. Their games didn't come to fruition as they were left stunned when he didn't even acknowledge their presence; pushing straight past them to enter the crafting area. A few waiting patrons turned away to hide their grins as the guards looked behind them as the doors swung closed; questioning each other on whether they should actually follow him or not.

Roman sighed in relief when he saw Virgil approaching just as Vivian finished packing up his satchel. Concern quickly took its place as he registered the vacant look in his friends tear rimmed eyes; breathing more laboured than it should have been, even if he had just run from his chambers.

"Virgil? What's wrong?" Roman was on his feet; ignoring the stares around him as he grabbed onto Virgil's shoulders to try and steady him.

Squeezing his eyes shut, Virgil shook his head and tried to compose himself as he suddenly became aware of the watching eyes. "no-nothing...jus-. Late...sorry."

He tried to continue forward towards Vivian, but Roman's grip didn't loosen and even without eye contact, Virgil knew the Prince's eyes were assessing him with concern.

"We're leaving."

"Wha- no."

Tears threatened to spill from Virgil's tired eyes as Roman let go to grab his satchel from Vivian's outstretched hand; his skin felt ice cold without the touch and his hands started to shake. Fists clenching in frustration, Virgil was about to argue when Roman grabbed hold of his right hand and started to pull him out of the crafting area.

_When the Prince gives you an instruction, you follow it! Do I make myself perfectly clear?_

Virgil hated the fact that Rupert's voice entered his mind again in that moment. He was torn between allowing Roman to lead him away or forcing him to stay and continue crafting. Logically they should have stayed and crafted, but his heart screamed for solitude with Roman. Technically it was Roman's wish to leave; he only hoped all onlookers would see it that way as well, and not that Virgil had distracted the Prince from his duties. Feet moving diligently, the pair were soon moving quickly through the inner city and towards the Queen's gardens.

_Filthy outsider. You are nothing but a useless farm boy the Queen took pity on. Nothing more._

Roman may have been ignorant of many things, but he had seen that vacant look in Virgil's eyes too many times to ignore it. As they reached the back of his mother’s garden that disguised the inner wall, Roman carefully parted a manicured bush and encouraged Virgil to continue past him to the secluded hideaway they had made as children. The bushes came back together seamlessly and Roman had hold of his friends trembling hand again as they walked around the back of a massive old oak stump; hollowed and coated in moss and vines.

Safe from prying eyes, Virgil allowed himself to relax; body shaking with sobs as he finally allowed his held tears to fall and Roman pulled him close. Fists pushed briefly at Roman’s chest, before Virgil accepted the hold; head resting on his shoulder as he let his hidden emotions rise back to the surface.

"I've got you, Virge," Roman whispered, slowly guiding them down to sit on his lap in the hollowed oak. "You're safe with me."

Virgil knew Roman believed his words. He truly thought that he was safe with him. In the past, those words were a form of comfort from Adara, Queen Alexandra and Roman. Back then, his nightmares were only from the lost memories of his past and the battle he had been saved from. It had become almost routine for Roman to sneak into Virgil's bed to comfort him when he woke gasping and sobbing uncontrollably when their carers weren't nearby. Even after he left the nursery to live with Adara and then on his own, Virgil never spent long alone following a nightmare. Roman almost had a sixth sense for when his friend needed him, and many evenings he would wake to find the Prince appearing in the doorway and ready to comfort him. Virgil craved that comfort and feeling of safety when his lost memories hit; but when King Rupert was involved, he only felt more guilty sitting in Roman's arms. Lying to his friend was harder in these moments of weakness. He wanted to be honest with him but the light in Roman was too precious to lose, so he remained clinging to the white fabric of his friend’s clothes; mind in a state of emotional turmoil.

************************

The forest outside of the city was bursting with colour and a sense of life as Logan left the common trails in search of herbs. Their usual slim glasses replaced with large squares of glass with wooden frames; black cloak shielding them from the light shower that had blessed the area with a fresh earthy scent. Eyes scanned the ground and tree trunks for any signs of useful plants or blooms that could be collected and tested.

Screwing the lid on a sample jar, Logan inspected the cuttings they had placed inside; curious about the blue colouring that had appeared on a normally white flower. The shifting of undergrowth caught their attention and they turned to spot a grey deer with blue runes marking its face.

"Hello, Spirit, my old friend," Logan smiled; slipping the jar into the satchel and calmly approaching the deer.

The creature showed no fear as they approach, stepping closer to meet the human halfway; lowering its head to allow Logan to begin scratching behind its ears the moment they were close enough.

"I feared your safety after such a long absence," blue animal eyes blinked at Logan; head tilting slightly in apology. "I am glad to see you appear safe. May I inspect your health?"

Bowing its head in agreeance, Spirit allowed them to walk around and inspect their body; pausing at a small cut on their hind leg.

"It appears you have been in a bit of a scrape." They wasted no time in retrieving a premade ointment and rune cloth from their satchel. "Won't be a moment."

Healing animals wasn't a conventional use of healing magic, but Logan enjoyed working with the deer. They had met Spirit years prior when they found them with an arrow stuck in their shoulder; spending hours with them before finally being able to heal the wound. Ever since, Logan had come across the animal regularly when they were out collecting for their father. The runes on Spirit's face a clear sign of their status as a spirit animal and translated to ice or snow. Logan was fascinated and excited by the relationship they had formed over the years; they couldn't understand why such an honourable creature would be interested in them, but savoured it nonetheless.

"There you go, Spirit," Logan stood and admired the healed leg, "Not even a mark."  
Spirit turned and nuzzled Logan's chest, almost knocking them over with the force of their affection.

"Take it easy," a laugh effortlessly escaped them as they wrapped their arms around the creature’s neck and snuggled the soft fur with their cheek. "It is my pleasure to serve you."

Stepping away, Spirit looked around before bounding over to a patch of green ground cover; eyes glowing with blue, natural runes as they bowed their head to touch the patch with the tip of their nose. A grin spread across Logan's face as they watched frost coat the plant and golden buds grew and bloomed before their eyes.

"Frost lilies!"

As Spirit stepped back, Logan knelt and quickly collected the flowers in a sample jar. After the jar lid was secured, Spirit lent forward again and froze the jar with a tap of their nose.

"These will be most valuable for my father and I," Logan scratched the deer behind its ear as they stood. "Thank you very much for this gift. These will be invaluable in crafting my new treatment for internal injuries and muscular bruising."

They had been working on new remedies for a while, and with King Rupert's increased aggression they feared they would be testing it sooner rather than later.

Logan looked sadly at the deer as they spoke, "Virgil may be in need of more support than magic alone. I worry about him, Spirit." The deer moved closer; eyes just as sad as Logan's. "I fear I may not find him in time one day."

Wind rushed through the area and Logan shielded their eyes as leaves and dust blew past their face. When their eyes opened, they were shocked to see tears slip from the deer's eyes; slightly frosted and shimmering like small jewels.

"Spirit?" Logan gently swiped the tears from the creature’s eyes; heart aching at the pure sadness they saw within them. "Your empathy will never cease to amaze me, my friend. You do not know Virgil and yet you cry for him. Perhaps you could meet him one day. I'm sure Virgil would appreciate you as much as I do."

Another tear slipped from the deer's eye and Logan quickly brushed it away before Spirit started backing away from their touch.

"I assume it is time for you to be on your way. I hope to see you with happier news soon."

Spirit bowed their head once more before sprinting back into the depths of the forest, leaving Logan alone once more. The satchel was cold against their leg as the frozen sample jar chilled the leather, making them aware of the passing of time as they continued to watch the horizon where Spirit had vanished. They always felt lost after the spirit animal left; like a piece of them was taken by the creature every time. It wasn't until the howl of wolves echoed through the trees that they found their feet again and started to make their way back towards the main track for the city.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, sorry this took so long to finish. I think I need to start aiming for shorter chapters because I just have too many scenes I want to cover in each, and I feel like they are taking too long. Let me know your thoughts though; do you prefer to wait for a longer chapter, or would you prefer shorter ones that may come a bit faster?
> 
> Also, I really hope you liked the art and please don’t forget to check [@fanartfunart](https://fanartfunart.tumblr.com/) on Tumblr. They do amazing artwork and stories of their own. Well worth taking a scroll down through their Tumblr page 😊 
> 
> I really can’t give a timeline on when the next chapter will be done. I need to get some less angsty ideas to fill in a bit of a gap I have in the story and I don’t really have anyone to bounce ideas off sooooo gotta wait for inspiration to hit me in the face. 
> 
> Anyway, thanks for reading and I hope you have a lovely time zone.
> 
> A new character appeared!
> 
> Patton ‘Bow’ Finn: he|him pronouns; eldest son of Mia and Larsen Finn; father disappeared after youngest brother was born; took on the father figure role for his brothers; works on the family farm and helps a local baker for extra gold; skilled archer and basic healer (using only herbs and not magic); always carries his archery gear around ‘just in case’; decorated his quiver with a crest to represent his brothers. 
> 
> Remy ‘Arrow’ Finn: he|him pronouns; middle child (three year gap between both his siblings); is short for his age; makes braided bracelets and sells them at the market; helps Patton as much as he is able; hasn’t been able to master archery at all; keeps a length of fabric tied around his middle and uses it to cover his eyes for ideal daytime napping in the forest; is jealous of how much attention Patton gives Quiver now he is older.


	4. Not-so-Secret Garden

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Virgil and Roman spend some time in their secluded hideaway in the Queen’s garden. The hedges shield them from prying eyes….right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey 👋 so this chapter includes a link to some art done by [@fanartfunart](https://fanartfunart.tumblr.com/) on Tumblr (I’ve included a link below the image to see their Tumblr post). Now, please please please do not repost this art. This means, do not COPY and PASTE (or screenshot) it onto your own post on any social media channel.
> 
> If you like the art, reblog the Tumblr post ([*art by @fanartfunart*](https://fanartfunart.tumblr.com/post/187404601000/some-commissions-for-snail-giggles-more-from)). Don’t have Tumblr? Share the Tumblr page link on other socials. Just please don’t repost. Respect the artist and give them the love and appreciation they deserve

The chirps of insects and rustling leaves in the garden were disturbed every few moments as Virgil sucked in a shaky breath; working to control the sobs that shook his core. Roman’s hands had been careful to not put pressure on Virgil’s injured arm; unsure of how healed the wound was. Instead, one arm secured the sobbing man in his lap, while the other held his shoulder and his thumb shifted up and down with his breathing; encouraging Virgil to breathe in time with the movement.

*[art by @fanartfunart](https://fanartfunart.tumblr.com/post/187404601000/some-commissions-for-snail-giggles-more-from) ([@inkwellfire](https://inkwellfire.tumblr.com/))*

Leaning his head back, Roman stared at the wall opposite them. If he got closer, he was sure he would see their names scratched into the stone along with runes for friendship and forever. The boys had often escaped the outside world by sneaking into their little hideaway. It was the closest they got to an escape before Roman could request trips out to the town or the forest beyond the city’s outer barrier. A smile crept onto his face as he recalled the time he stole a whole cake from the kitchen and Adara had chased him and Virgil all through the castle, only to lose them in the maze of his mother’s garden. They had feasted in the hollow oak until their stomachs ached. In his mind, this was a place just for the two of them; free from expectations and watching eyes. A place he and Virgil could be equals. A place he could admit his struggles with writing and reading runes. A place to just be.

Glancing down, Roman saw Virgil’s eyes sit half open as his breathing finally seemed to steady and move in time with his own.

“I know you can’t recall your nightmares,” Roman kept his voice soft; thumb still keeping the pace for their breathing, “but you should know you are not alone. I have them too; nothing like yours obviously, but nightmares all the same.”

Virgil didn’t respond, eyes unmoving as he kept his gaze locked on the scene before him. Roman sighed and continued talking, needing to get his own thoughts out.

“I had a nightmare last night. It was so real I swore I was awake and facing the dark sorcerer in my chambers. He looked like half his face had merged with a snake and claimed I would die or meet the same fate as my brother or something crazy like that. I threw a knife at him and nothing happen. He just stood there with a knife in his head like it was nothing.”

“You don’t have a brother.”

Calm washed over Roman at Virgil’s response. Talking was the first step in him ‘waking up’ after a nightmare.

“That’s what I said. He claimed it was a message from the fates, but, A, I don’t believe in them, and B, I have no siblings.”

“Sorry I wasn’t there for you.”

“It’s ok, sleepyhead,” he shifted his body slightly as Virgil’s weight started to make his legs go to sleep, “you’re here now.”

“I’m meant to help you, not the other way around.”

“Says who?”

“Your-“ Virgil cut himself off, almost letting the truth slide from his mouth like melted butter. “Says everyone.”

“Not me.” Virgil tilted his head to look up at Roman; taking in his hazel eyes with gold flecks ringing his pupil. “I would never say that, nor do I believe it to be true. We help each other. Regardless of what others think, you don’t have to do anything for me. Heck, if you wanted to leave, I wouldn’t stop you.”

“Really?”

“Really, really. I mean, it’s not like I own you or anything.”

Virgil’s eyes widened and Roman found himself lost in their smoky design; a mix of blue-grey and a golden brown. It was almost impossible to truly describe their colour and being so close he took in every change in pigmentation. Virgil stared back with a similar intensity, mind holding onto Roman’s words and trying to force Rupert’s cruel comments aside.

“I… I don’t want to leave.” Virgil finally managed to make his mouth move, becoming aware of just how long they had been staring at each other in silence. A dull ache crept into his chest as the potion started to wear off and his heart raced with the emotional intensity of the situation.

“I don’t want you to either,” absently Roman’s hand repositioned on Virgil’s shoulder and slowly shifted down towards his wound. “Though I would love to leave the city more often. Would you join me if I did?”

“That’s a stupid question. You know I wou-“ Virgil hissed and snapped his eyes shut as Roman instinctively pulled him closer and pressed his wound.

“Crap, sorry.” Roman reacted as though he had just burnt himself, quickly pulling his hand away. “I’m sorry. Shit, I got you bad, didn’t I?”

“It’s fine, Princey.” Shifting off Roman’s lap, Virgil carefully moved his arm as the pain radiated back to the source. He silently wished he had more magic to spare so he could reduce his discomfort.

“Can I see?” The question left them both with reddening cheeks; Roman quickly averting his gaze. "I-I just thought, I could, maybe, well, help? I did cause it."

Nodding, Virgil slowly removed his vest before slipping the deep violet fabric over his head; exposing his pale frame. It always confused Roman how someone so thin and frail in appearance, could be so strong and nimble. Roman’s broad shoulders and solid figure were never overlooked; while many visiting fighters had learnt the hard way to not judge a book by its cover when it came to his smaller friend.

It made it hard for Roman to see his arm a flurry of colour as he pulled the basic bandage away, though the gash itself was barely visible now; sutures completely faded away.

“I didn’t realise I got you that deep,” Roman looked down; even more aware of how his actions had affected his friend.

“It’s fine,” Virgil assured, fingers gently running along the fine scar line. “I was tired and used more magic than I should have. This wouldn’t have even been an issue if I had been more cautious with my own magic. You are not to blame.”

The lie caused his heart to ache and throat to tighten. Part of Virgil desperately wanted to admit the trauma King Rupert had afforded him, while the other wanted to scream at Roman for being an idiot and not keeping his guard up.

“It was foolish of me to act so rashly to impress my father.”

Virgil’s head snapped up, “Roman, no. Don’t-”

“It’s the truth though,” crossing his legs, Roman tucked clenched fists into his lap and kept his gaze locked on the ground. “I should have held back a bit. I knew you were tired. It wasn’t fair.”

Virgil scoffed and reached out a hand to grip the prince’s shoulder.

“Life isn’t fair, Ro.” Roman looked up, hair just obstructing his vision as he met Virgil’s eyes. “The real world won’t hold back. This just means that we need to keep training so I - no - **we,** can protect each other.”

Scooping his hair back, Roman mimicked the half smile on Virgil’s face and nodded. “Two Together?”

“Four forever.”

They both chuckled at their childish saying as Roman reached for his satchel and pulled out a round container; unscrewing it to reveal a clear waxy substance.

“Put that away, Roman.” Virgil whined as the Prince shifted closer. “You shouldn’t waste your healing gels on this.”

“Does it look like I really care?” He replied; moving to Virgil’s side and carefully cradling his arm in one hand while the other used two fingers to massage the ointment into his skin.

Virgil scrunched his face up at the action before he felt Roman’s soul magic penetrating his skin and soothing the throbbing in his arm. Eyes closing, Virgil focused on feeling every move Roman made; picturing golden strings of magic weaving through his muscles and blood vessels to restore them to their normal state. His magic was different to Logan and Haefen’s; it was warm and made his skin tingle with electricity.

Roman’s brow furrowed as he barely sensed Virgil’s magic at all. “You weren’t kidding about overdoing the magic, huh?”

“Would I lie?” Virgil opened his eyes and glanced to the side lazily.

“No.” That hit Virgil harder than the weight to his chest; blood chilling instantly. “I guess this means we won’t be going outside the city this afternoon.”

It took a moment for Virgil to generate enough saliva to soothe his dry throat and get his words out. “I-I didn’t know we – ahem – had an outing booked.”

“Oh, there’s none of that anymore,” Virgil’s widening eyes matched the beam that spread across Roman’s face. “Father has finally approved my request to travel freely and take on missions further afield. We’ve got our freedom, Virgil.”

On the outside, Virgil joined Roman in expressing their excitement for traveling and taking on bandits and invaders; but his true feelings were kept under wraps. Sure, the watchful knights that followed them were judgmental and rude to him whenever Roman’s back was turned, but they were their safety net. Any trouble they came across, the knights stepped in and took majority of the heat of battle. Without them, Virgil would need to defend the Prince solo. Colour seemed to drain from the world as he was overwhelmed with thoughts of what could possibly happen while out alone.

“Virgil? Hey, Virgil?”

Snapping fingers brought the world back into focus and Virgil shook his head to clear his thoughts.

“You okay? You’re looking paler than usual.”

“I’m fine.” Rustling leaves drew Virgil’s attention to the shifting shadows. “The afternoon is slipping away.”

“And?” Satisfied with his efforts, Roman offered Virgil his shirt; bandage obviously no longer required.

“We should be at the training ground or,” he slipped his shirt back on, “crafting, or visiting the kitchens or something-.”

Virgil went to stand, but Roman grabbed his hand and fixed him with a stern look. “Uh-ah; We are staying right here.”

“But-“

“I felt your magic, Virge. We’re taking the afternoon off.”

As the Prince laid down on the fallen leaves, Virgil sighed. “Can we get food at least?”

“Got ya covered,” he gestured to the satchel and Virgil reached inside to retrieved two apples. “Lay with me, Vee. Adventure can wait for another day.”

The sloping ground in the hollow, paired with the layer of leaf litter, made the firm ground bearable to lay on. Side by side, they munched on their apples; Roman rambling about all the places he wanted to visit, the people he imagined meeting and the eventual unit he and Virgil would construct. It seemed nothing was going to deter him; a fact the pleased and terrified Virgil all at once. He did his best to keep his mind focused on Roman, but he couldn’t stop his thoughts from straying down a negative path on occasion. As exhaustion took hold, he focused solely on the sound of Roman’s voice; not the words, just the sound, until his eyes slid shut and he was asleep. Roman paused mid-sentence as he heard a sigh from beside him and couldn’t help but smile at the peace on his friend’s face. Words failed to describe the pleasant feeling that sat on his chest as he shuffled closer until he could slip his hand into Virgil’s; instinct allowing their fingers to intertwine.

“I’ll always protect you,” Roman whispered, allowing his own eyes to slowly close. “I promise.”

*[art by @fanartfunart](https://fanartfunart.tumblr.com/post/187404601000/some-commissions-for-snail-giggles-more-from) ([@inkwellfire](https://inkwellfire.tumblr.com/))*

******************************

Perched on the stone wall, a crow stared down at the unlikely pair. It watched the frail one cry. It heard the taller one speak. It examined their reactions as a shirt was removed and continued to stare until the pair were asleep and content. The wind ruffled its black feathers; wings opening to use the draft to quickly take flight. After a final circling of the hidden pair, the crow took off towards the eastern side of the city; sunlight revealing deep green runes patterning its wings.

Swooping down, the crow nipped at some villagers’ hats before crashing through reeds that covered an already broken window. The man inside snatched a blade from his dressing table and thrust it towards the chair the crow had perched itself on; surprise quickly replaced by annoyance.

“What do you want?” He reached for a red cloak with white banding and the guards crest and began fastening it around his shoulders. “Haven’t you broken enough of my stuff already?”

The animal appeared to almost smile, tilting its head with a soft caw before flying over to the guards table and pecking at a stained wooden box.

“Piss off.” Slamming his blade down, the guard turned away and began securing his belt around his waist. “Fly yourself home, I’ve got too many shifts to be wasting my magic on you.”

Not liking the guard’s tone, the crow flew over to the table and sat on their sword handle.

“Hey!” As the guard waved the bird off, it revealed the mess of droppings it had left on the hilt and table. “Fucking little shit!”

Cawing in delight, the crow avoided the guards waving hands until the man’s eyes glowed and a surge of air forced it to the ground. Strong hands pinned the bird’s wings to its sides as the guard collected it from the floor.

“Look who’s laughing now,” he beamed.

The moment of victory was short lived as the crow pecked his ungloved hands, causing blood to quickly well from the cuts its beak had caused. Letting the crow go, the man hissed and shook his hand before inspecting the long thin cuts.

“Fine, I’ll send you back.” Grabbing a cloth, he wrapped it around his hand and turned to the table; the crow quickly returning to peck at the wooden box again. “This is the last time though.”

Bowing its head, the crow cawed softly before looking back up as the man retrieved a complex rune on fresh parchment from the box. The paper looked frail and brittle; the material not suited to holding such a large amount of magic from the rune cast to it. Taking a small scroll from the box as well, the guard secured it to the bird’s leg before it carefully hopped onto the runes centre.

“If I see your face again,” the man growled as he braced his hands on the papers edge, “I won’t hesitate to gut you.”

The crow let out a final caw before the guard activated the rune, causing the bird to vanish before the paper burst into a puff of smoke.

Coughing and gasping, the guard slipped to the ground; spent from using the large quantity of magic in one burst. Though they appeared to not be beyond their twenties; in truth they were nearing their ninetieth birthday. Both a blessing and a curse of being a sorcerer, a youthful look that took longer to fade.

**Bang! Bang! Bang!**

The front door of the house shook with the force of the knocks from the other side.

“You ready yet, Damien?” Came a stern feminine voice from the other side. “The King is conducting assessments this evening and I’m not showing up solo.”

Damien carefully stood and dusted off his uniform. “Just a moment, Angelica.”

“Hurry up.”

Damien looked in the mirror at his tired eyes; sunken and darkening from his sudden exhaustion. Regardless of how his body felt, his heart had a weight lifted. His debt was paid. His secret was safe. He would have at least a few more years in the city before needing to move into solitude as his body would inevitably shift rapidly to match his true age. The sorcerer ban had been tough for the man to endure, but he was one of few to accept it as a natural order of the kingdom. It meant he kept his life; be it a tough one pretending to have limited magic.

Exiting his house, Damien walked with his partner through the city streets towards the castle. He wondered what information the crow had gathered this time and how the information would be used. After three years of being harassed by the creature, he still questioned what its masters end goal was. No action against the kingdom had been taken in three years, which seemed odd considering the amount of information he was sure the bird had recovered over that time.

“Did you take on an extra patrol or something?” Angelica questioned, slightly annoyed with Damien’s slowing pace.

“Not an official one,” he lied, pushing his legs to move faster and catch up to his partner.

“You better wake up by the time the King comes around. I can’t afford a pay cut because you got greedy.”

“Don’t worry. The assessment will be a piece of cake.”

The two guards continued in silence; both minds now focused on the assessment and how the King would choose to test them that afternoon.

******************************

The sun was beginning to speed up its descent when Virgil stirred and slowly slid his eyes open, turning his head to see Roman sleeping next to him. It took a moment for him to realise they were holding hands and he resisted the urge to pull away in fear. It wasn’t that he didn’t have feelings for the Prince; it felt like he always had, but he knew it wasn’t an option. The King would never allow their relationship to be anything more than what it already was; he’d made that very clear to Virgil directly, and with the many young royals that were invited to visit the castle since Roman turned 16. It was almost comical to stand by and watch ladies, lords and non-binary royalty try and win his Prince over. Roman was an absolute flirt during all meals and planned outings, but the moment guards were out of earshot he set them straight. He had no interest in marriage for the sake of kingdom relations, and nothing was going to come from a three-day visit and the offer of an alliance or treasures. Honestly, a small part of Virgil relished every suitor Roman turned down; while the rest of him feared what King Rupert would do if the Prince continued to deny the advances of young royals.

Hands still entwined, Virgil savoured the moment of tranquillity before rational thought returned and he attempted to pull away.

“Uh-ah,” Roman squeezed Virgil’s hand and smiled over at his friend, “don’t try and sneak away now.”

“I wasn’t sneaking away.” As he sat up, Virgil was pleasantly surprised to find his chest didn’t protest the movement at all.

“Then what were you planning?” Roman questioned, sitting up and refusing to release the others hand.

“I was only going to get some dirt to rub on your face. Would be a major improvement.”

Laughing, Roman stood up before carefully pulling Virgil onto his feet; hands never letting go. “Jealous of what you don’t have?”

“Thankful is more like it.”

Roman grasped at his chest like he had been struck by an arrow. “Oh, you wound me, Virgil.”

“Save the dramatics for your suitors, Princey.” Finally pulling his hand free, Virgil searched the area for his satchel. “We should get back and get ready for dinner. Where’s my bag?”

“You didn’t have one.”

Virgil scraped his hand down his face and groaned, “I must have left it at Haefen’s.”

“Why the long face?” Roman questioned, pulling his satchel over his shoulder and following Virgil towards the bushes that concealed them.

“Nothing. Let’s just go. I’m starving.”

Virgil held the bushes aside for Roman this time and they quickly hurried towards the physician’s quarters before they started to lose light.

.

.

. 

A smile pulled at Alexandra’s cheeks as she spotted her two boys weaving through the garden from the window in her chambers. Chest slightly looser thanks to Clara’s meticulous work and consistent care throughout the past few weeks. Guilt pulled at her heart strings as she watched them disappear from view, and she tried to catch a glimpse from the other window.

“Is everything alright, your highness?” Clara stepped back into the room with a tray of bowls and set them down onto a nearby table.

“Fine thank you, Clara.” Realising the boys were out of sight, the Queen moved to sit in the padded chair by the table. “I just saw Roman and Virgil in the garden, is all. I haven’t been able to see them in a while; especially Virgil. He looks like he’s grown.”

“Children do grow fast.” The maid commented, helping the Queen loosen her gown to expose her chest. “My Logan has certainly turned into a fine young physician and I swear they are different every time I have a chance to be with them.”

Alexandra nodded and sat patiently as Clara stuck a rune parchment to one side of her chest, which had a fine thread that ran from that parchment to a second rune submerged in a warm bowl of liquid. A similar set up occurred on her other side, only the stringed rune sat in an empty bowl.

“My heart just longs to be with them again, Clara.” Leaning back, Alexandra sighed deeply and tucked a loose brown curl behind her ear. “I know Rupert is more protective these days, but I’m beginning to feel like a prisoner in my own castle.”

Clara kept her gaze down as she mixed herbs into a cup of warm water and passed it to the Queen. In truth, Rupert had given orders for no unnecessary visitors to the chambers and Clara was instructed to not give the Queen permission to leave unless she was certain of her health. With her family at risk, she had taken no chances in letting the Queen out; but looking at the sad woman before her, she couldn’t keep her locked up any longer.

“Why don’t we see how this treatment goes,” Clara offered. “If you feel up to it, you can attend dinner with your family.”

The joy that shone in the woman’s eyes was worth the risk, as she accepted and thanked her maid repeatedly. As the runes started to glow with Clara’s soul magic, the Queen relaxed into her chair; runes pulling the warm solution from the bowl to clear building mucus from her lungs. By the time the procedure was over, the once empty bowl was full of a yellowing liquid; thankfully it was paler than Clara expected, and she was happy to note there seemed to be less than their previous treatment.

“Some positive signs here, your majesty.” Alexandra was quick to redress herself while Clara packed up. “Seems you are on the mend.”

“That is brilliant news,” she beamed, meeting Clara’s eyes with a request obvious in her own.

Sighing, Clara gave her a knowing nod. “I’ll inform the King and kitchen of your attendance to dinner. Rest for now and I’ll return to help you change.”

As the room filled with the soft glow of sunset, Alexandra rested soundly on her bed. Clothes for the evening were laid out in preparation and Clara hurried home to prepare a wax for burning in the dining room to keep the air clear. The maze of inner halls were well worn by Clara and she reached home in record time, panting slightly as she hurried inside.

“What is it this-” Logan turned from their position at the mixing table, half expecting it to be Virgil bursting in again, only to be shocked by their mother’s breathless entrance. “Mother? Is everything alright?”

“I need a cleansing wax,” she moved forward and placed a greeting kiss on their cheek. “Do you have any made?”

Twisting their lips to the side, Logan glanced around their mass of cupboards and calculated current supplies in their head. “We have one full candle and enough supplies for three more.”

“I should only require two for tonight, but if you have the time to spare, I would appreciate the extra being made.”

Nodding, Logan tidied their current project for the frost lilies and set about retrieving supplies for mixing the healing candles. It was rare their mother returned home so early in the evening; Logan often retiring to bed before her return. They relished in the moment to work together, even if it was rushed and mostly silent.

As their mother slowly stirred the liquid wax, strands of greying hair framing her face, Logan held out a mug of tea.

“I can finish it off, mother. Savour the opportunity to take a break.”

“You are a blessing, Logan.” She willingly took up the mug and stepped aside for Logan to take over; tired eyes filled with gratitude. “I’m sorry I haven’t been around much lately. The Queen has required constant attention.”

“No need to apologise for completing your duties,” they smiled and gestured towards a waiting chair. “Now, please, sit and rest while you can.”

The ageing woman complied and sipped silently at her tea as she watched her child work, in awe of just how skilled they had become. A stumbling child they were no more, now a capable adult and a physician growing in skill. Pouring the wax into a prepared mould, Logan set the candle onto a cooling rune to quicken the setting process.

“It shall be ready in a few minutes, and you can return to the Queens side.”

“Thank you, my dear.” Standing, Clara pulled Logan into a tight hug; suddenly aware of her much shorter stature as she rested her head on their chest. “Words cannot express my love and adoration for you.”

“Your actions speak volumes, Mother. You needn’t worry.”

Haefen opened the front door and was pleasantly surprised to see his family in an affectionate embrace.

“Well isn’t this a pleasant scene to return home to.”

Logan laughed and extended an arm. “Care to complete the picture?”

“Don’t mind if I do.” He chuckled and wrapped his own arms around his family, planting a gentle kiss atop his wife’s head.

The love the physicians shared was without description. Each parent passing their strengths and wisdom onto their child and watching in awe as they grew beyond their own skill levels. Logan didn’t quite understand why, but they had a feeling moments such as this would be even harder to come by soon. It unsettled them greatly and made letting their parents go even harder; but Clara had a job to return to and they had more items to craft. Watching their mother collect the candles, Logan hated the feeling sitting heavily in their gut. They committed the farewell kiss and goodbye from their mother to memory; still unsure as to why they felt moments like this wouldn’t happen again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, hello again. Nice to see you. Hope your day/night has been pleasant. I was going to add more to this chapter, but then I remembered I wasn’t going to make this a long one and quickly cut back. It was nice to give the boys a happy moment together; all be it only a brief moment. 
> 
> So, I’m looking to get some more art done because the Remy and Patton one just turned out so well. I’m looking forward to working with an artist again to bring the commission to life (just had to fight the internet bank lords first before I said “hey, can you please bring this cute scene to life.”) 
> 
> As per usual, I won’t give an exact timeline on the next chapter. I’ve got Father’s Day this coming weekend (might get to see my fam) and then I may be preoccupied with work stuff (or I will procrastinate from work by writing more of this. Who really knows?). 
> 
> Anyway, happy timezone friends 💜🐌


	5. The views of many

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Different places. Different people. Though they are all connected. 
> 
> (Suicide mentioned/implied in one statement)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just FYI, I’m uploading this on my iPad and without my normal spelling/grammar checks so sorry for any mistakes in advance.
> 
> Also, have you seen the art in the previous chapter? 😱
> 
> UPDATE October 1st: Just added another commission done by [@fanartfunart](https://fanartfunart.tumblr.com/) on Tumblr (I’ve included a link below the image to see their Tumblr post). Now, please please please do not repost this art. This means, do not COPY and PASTE (or screenshot) it onto your own post on any social media channel.
> 
> If you like the art, reblog the Tumblr post ([*art by @fanartfunart*](https://snail-giggles.tumblr.com/post/188031407859/fanartfunart-another-lovely-commission-for)). Don’t have Tumblr? Share the Tumblr page link on other socials. Just please don’t repost. Respect the artist and give them the love and appreciation they deserve

The forest looked peaceful from the tower window. The view could almost be considered beautiful if it wasn’t for the fact that it was forced, and the viewers had been condemned to look at it for the past 4 years.

Wind caused Snake’s hair to shift in front of his eyes, and he was quick to swipe it away and slick it flat into place. Pushing away from the windowsill with a sigh, he looked down at the tattered rags he called clothes; rough thread-pulled pieces of brown and grey fabric stitched together and scratched against his skin. It was hard to see himself in these clothes, compared to what he wore in his astral form. He wished he could spend all his time outside of his tower prison but shifting into astral or animal form was a risky process.

*[art by @fanartfunart](https://snail-giggles.tumblr.com/post/188031407859/fanartfunart-another-lovely-commission-for) ([@inkwellfire](https://inkwellfire.tumblr.com/))*

With a sigh, Snake scratched at his yellow scales and turned to look at the still figure on the bed in the rooms centre. They had been out for almost 5hours and he was beginning to worry that something had gone wrong. As if on cue, the man jolted upright with a gasp; arms flailing around as tears streamed from grey eyes.

“Snake? Snake?”

It took two steps and Snake was by his side, grabbing their hands and pulling them up to his face. “I’m here. It’s okay. You’re back.”

Vacant eyes stared ahead as the man ran his fingers across Snake’s face, feeling the change from skin to scales and scales to skin, before accepting it was his friend and slumping heavily against them.

“You were gone for a long time,” Snake held the man close and as he tried to catch his breath, “Did you learn anything?”

Nodding, he kept his head pressed against Snake’s chest; long grey hairs falling across his eyes.

“Did you find your brother?” There was another nod and they burst into sobs again. “Shhh. Shhh. It’s okay. Everything is okay, Spirit.”

Though they were lies, he knew the words would help Spirit calm down and he desperately needed news before their captor arrived. Stroking his grey hair, Snake hummed softly until Spirit’s breathing calmed slightly.

“I-I-I got to s-s-see Logan a-again.” Spirit smiled recalling their face and the feeling of their magic healing his leg.

“Are they okay?”

“Yes.” He nodded against Snake’s chest and wiped the tears away from his cheeks. “They looked healthy and happy and the forest was immaculate.”

“I’m glad to hear that. What else did you learn?”

The smile faded from Spirit’s face. “Virgil.”

“What!” Snake fruitlessly pushed Spirit back to look at their face clearly. “Virgil was there?”

Silent tears fell again as Spirit shook his head. “He wasn’t there. Logan only spoke of him, and it didn’t sound good. They worry they won’t get to him in time. Someone is already hurting him, Snake, and all I could do was cry and run away. I’m sorry. I should have done more.”

“No, no, no,” pulling him close again, Snake rocked slowly to quell their sobs. “I’m sorry. I need to do more. And I promise I will. We will stop your vision from coming to light. You have my word.”

* * *

In a puff of black smoke, the crow appeared inside an unlit fireplace with a squawk and ruffled feathers. Flying out, the bird perched on the edge of a chair as a man burst through the door dressed in a green blouse with black lace trimmings and purple eyeshadow ringing his eyes.

“Squawk squawk birdie!” he cried, dancing over to the bobbing bird. “What has been done? Something fun I hope.”

Cawing and bouncing its head, the bird watched as the man mimicked the action before running out the door with flapping arms. Pausing briefly to shake its head, the bird took off to follow the man down the stone halls.

A wooden door burst open, slamming against the wall with a shower of dust as the man spun into the room and stopped with a bow in front of the rooms two occupants.

He smirked up at the tired looking man and disgusted woman, wiggling his upper lip to make his obviously fake moustache wiggle.

“Hellooooooooooooo, lady and germ.”

“Who is this?” The woman asked, screwing up her face at the scene before them.

“I’m what the cat drags in.” He replied, rising back up to his normal height. “And who are you? The monkey’s uncle?”

The woman fumed and the gentleman beside her sighed in exasperation. “That will do, Remus. Wren, you are excused.”

“Oh, I thought someone farted, but I didn’t want to point fingers at anyone.” Remus giggled, fanning his nose as the woman huffed and stormed out. “See ya, stinky.”

“Shut up, Remus, and bring me the bird.”

“Sure. Fresh or fried?”

“Remus!” The man demanded, fixing them with an angered gaze.

“Fried it is.”

Clapping and hopping on the spot, Remus scanned the room and spotted the crow sitting on an upper rafter. With a giggle, he summoned a flaming dagger and threw it towards the bird; singeing its feathers as it fell from its perch and into his awaiting hands.

“One magic fried birdie for the wicked old hag.”

A glass spine slid into Remus’s shoulder, producing only a widening smile in reaction.

“Stab me harder, daddy,” he laughed and lit his eyes up green to match that of the crow in his hands.

“What do you see?” The man growled, pushing the spine deeper into the others shoulder.

“Wow, oh sweet sheep suckling on sweet corn, this is goooood.”

“Speak, simpleton!”

“Wellll, my brothers got himself a hot little boy toy to play with. I mean, 10 out of 10 I would do him on hard gravel. Such a wasted opportunity for my innocent sibling. He’s practically naked and he’s just rubbing his arm. Rub lower, brother. Kiss ‘im! Tear his pants of and suck that-“

“Remus!” A second spine struck his other shoulder as the man roared. “I’m not interested in learning about your sexual fantasies. Facts only.”

“Calm ya farm; big dog bro is being let off the leash. No babysitters anymore. Got his big boy pants on and taking some time outside alone.”

“And Thomas? Any news on the artefact?”

“Hmmm, don’t know, don’t care.” Eyes returning to normal, Remus shrugged, and glass quickly passed his face and sliced a fine line along his cheek. “Shame your wit isn’t as sharp as your glass, Leon.”

“Maybe I should just kill you and shut that trap of yours permanently.” A thick glass blade slid from their wrist and pressed against Remus’s throat.

“Go ahead, oh ancient one. I really don’t mind. I’ll even start you off,” he lent against the blade, eyes daring Leon to go through with the action. “But what would you do without me, I wonder.”

Both men remained locked in eye contact; a trail of red colouring the clear glass against Remus’s throat. With a squawk, the crow flapped out of Remus’s loosening grip and began snapping at Leon’s hand, causing him to recoil before any skin was broken. Laughing, Remus removed the spines from his shoulders and smashed them on the stone floor with great glee.

“Such a shame, master.” The crow perched on his shoulder, and Remus carefully removed the scroll from its leg. “Knight still had some special stuff left over from our little rat.”

Leon looked confused, but realisation dawned on him as he read the scroll Remus had offered.

“Shame to lose our eyes on the inside.”

“Oh, don’t worry; Knight will still make trips and the only squeaks the rat will make is when he’s opening those pearly gates.”

“I hope your word is true.”

“I’m not one to be trusted at all, Dark one, and you know it.”

“Indeed,” Leon turned and walked over to a metal table to pour themselves a glass of amber liquid. “Unfortunately, that is what makes you the most trustworthy, Remus.”

“Flattery will get you know where, sir. I’ve seen the package you are working with and I am not interested.”

“You are excused, Remus.” They groaned, downing the glass and massaging their temples as Remus released a loud fart.

“Why, thank you for that honour.” The drinking glass struck the back of Remus’s head as he ran from the room; crow flapping alongside the wide-eyed man. “And they say I have a twisted and sadistic mind.”

* * *

The dining room had a calm feel despite Val’s fingers nervously strumming a guitar in time with her performing partner. From the moment she entered the room, she knew tonight was going to be tense from the King’s stiff demeanour alone; Virgil also wary and sitting perfectly straight in his chair. In stark contrast to everyone else, Roman was glowing; smile never faltering as the Queen entered and took her seat to the King’s right.

“Pleasure to join you for a meal again,” Alexandra nodded at her husband and son before noticing Virgil’s placement at the far end of the table. “Are we expecting more company?”

“Not this evening, my dear,” The King gestured for the staff to begin the service. “I thought it best not to risk a large audience while you are still unwell.”

“If that is the case, then Virgil,” the Queen gestured to the seat beside her, “would you please move closer. It seems unfair to be seated so far away from the conversation.”

After watching for the King’s slight nod of approval, Virgil stood and relocated to the position beside the Queen.

“Thank you, my Queen.”

“Oh, please Virgil. Those formalities are not required during a basic dinner, right Rupert?” Virgil swore he could see the disgust flair in the King’s eyes before he nodded.

“Of course. Virgil knows that he doesn’t have to be so formal during dinner.”

Virgil was about to apologise when Roman let out a breathy laugh. “He is always formal at dinner, Mother. Don’t dwell on it too much.”

Joining Roman’s laugh, Alexandra reached around to give Virgil’s back a loving rub; noticing how he stiffened at the action.

“You have always been such a well-mannered boy. If only manners came as easily to Roman as they had to you.”

“Hey,” The Prince whined, “I got better.”

“You did,” she giggled, “after Virgil joined our family. That truly was the best decision I made for us.”

“I second that,” Roman declared; raising his goblet of wine in agreement.

“Thank you…” the King’s gaze sharpened, and Virgil swallowed to dispel the rising bile in his throat. “Mother.”

Satisfied, Alexandra returned her hand to her lap and sat back as the staff entered to serve the meal.

The dinner shifted into silence as the group ate, Val keeping a watchful eye on the King as he glanced at Virgil’s slowly clearing plate. Tired of the silence, Roman cleared his throat and started talking between mouthfuls of food.

“So, father has given Virgil and I permission to venture beyond the city unescorted and take on more advanced missions.”

“That sounds exciting,” Alexandra breathed deeply, reaching for her water to clear her throat. “What are your plans now, boys?”

“Well,” raising his elbows to rest them on the table, Roman placed his hands together and rested his chin on top. “I have a few ideas. First, I just want to take Stella out for a good long ride. Then, I absolutely must take Virgil to see the Guardian Falls - oh - and possibly visit the village he’s from too. Beyond that, it comes down to what other missions Father decides to assign us to.”

“Well…that sounds wonderful.”

Val’s brow furrowed as she noticed how the Queen’s face dropped at the mention of Virgil’s village. She made note to talk to him about it at a later point and returned her observations to the King.

“And what have you been up to, Virgil?” Adjusting her position, Alexandra turned in her chair to get a better look at her adoptive son.

“Nothing of interest, Mother.” The lie was sour on his tongue as his mind pulled his recent torments to the surface. “I’m sure Roman, on the other hand, has much more to tell you.”

Deflated, Alexandra returned her attention to Roman as he thought of what to talk about. His mind ran through possible ideas, but he gathered that Virgil wasn’t in a storytelling mood and didn’t want to talk about anything that involved him.

“Well, I did have a crazy dream last night about a dark sorcerer.”

The King and Queen straightened in their chairs simultaneously at the mention of the sorcerer.

“You didn’t mention that this morning.”

Roman shrugged at the King’s statement, “I didn’t think it was important or anything. It was just a dream anyway. This snake faced guy droned on about me being arrogant and meeting the same fate as my brother; which is all utterly ridiculous, I’m sure you would agree.”

Fear gripped Alexandra’s chest as the memory of the fates warning returned to the forefront of her mind; reaching for Rupert’s hand under the table to hold for comfort.

“Yes,” Rupert accepted Alexandra’s secret hand and took a long drink from his glass. “I’m sure it was nothing but a ridiculous dream, Roman. No sorcerer would be close enough to perform such mind trickery; I have made sure of that.”

“Yeah, and I don’t believe in the fates, so they hold no power over me regardless.”

“Don’t ignore all of the fates warnings, Roman,” his mother warned, “not all their words are untrustworthy.”

“Your mother has a point. When you are King the fates will seek you out more and you will need to consider their words carefully.”

“Maybe that’s how you two work,” Roman pointed between his two parents and lent back in his chair,” but I don’t. I refuse to be driven to madness and kill myself like Grandmother did.”

“Roman, it isn’t that simple.” His mother pleaded, squeezing Rupert’s hand tighter.

“Seems pretty simple from where I’m sitting. You’re with me, right Virgil?”

All eyes turned to the thin man that had been enjoying blending into the folds of his chair. Eyes searching each staring face, trying to work out the best answer to calm them all; deciding it was best to just stick with the truth.

“I’m rather indifferent on the matter.”

“Oh, come on, Virgil!” Hands tossed in the air in exasperation, Roman lent forward in irritation. “Honestly, just pick a side already.”

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because the fates speak in your dreams.” Virgil’s voice cracked with emotion on the final word. “H-how can I honestly pick a side if I don’t even know if the fates have ever even spoken to me. I won’t pick a side without reason.”

“Agh,” Roman drooped back into his chair again, “this is just like our debate about sorcerers. You really can’t just pick a side?”

“What was that about sorcerers?”

The music skipped a few beats and blood chilled in Virgil’s veins at the King’s tone. The servers cautiously cleared plates, eager to escape the growing tension in the room. Virgil silently cursed Roman’s loose lips, knowing this wasn’t a subject that would be let go lightly.

“Virgil won’t say whether he is for or against the sorcerer ban for that exact same reason.”

“I-I just don’t think it’s fair to-to make a judgement on something without evidence.”

“So, you disagree with my ban against sorcerers?” Rupert questioned, leaning closer and resting his chin on clasped hands.

“I’m not s-s-saying that.”

A deep laugh from Roman sent chills down Virgil’s spine.

“By not choosing a side that is exactly what you’re saying, Virgil. Can’t you see it? Just say your truth; I have.”

“I have said my truth, Roman.” Voice practically begging his friend to stop pushing the matter. “I’m indifferent on matters until given reason to believe otherwise. Can’t you just be satisfied with that?”

“No, I cannot.”

“Roman, stop.” The Prince froze at his mother’s small voice. “Virgil, are you okay?”

“May I be excused?” Virgil looked at Rupert for approval; hands clenched in tight fists to prevent their trembling from being too obvious.

The moment the King nodded, Virgil left and Roman watched with an open mouth before requesting his leave as well. After planting a brief kiss on his mother’s cheek, Roman headed out and left his parents in the dining room alone.

“Glad I could experience a complete family dinner.” Alexandra admitted sadly, accepting Rupert’s assistance to stand and head out of the room. “Is this what you always do without me?”

“No. Virgil is usually much less vocal.”

“I’m glad to see he has a strong voice.”

The King scoffed in disgust. “He should align his beliefs with the King that houses him.”

“Don’t be like that, Rupert. Virgil is good for Roman. He will keep him safe and I’m sure the fates will agree; though that snake message is new.”

“Roman’s dream was nothing more than a dream, Alexandra.”

“But he spoke of his brother.”

Rupert sighed as they rounded the corner and got closer to their chambers.

“He could imagine that detail easily. Don’t over think this, my dear. We have ensured Roman’s safety since the day he was born. There isn’t a sorcerer around and the fortune of the fates will not come to pass. Trust me.”

Nodding, Alexandra allowed the journey to continue in silence. Sorcerers were not what concerned the Queen, it was the type of Sorcerers that caused her fear. Accepting her return to her chambers, Alexandra was happy to have her husband’s assistance in preparing for bed; only needing a brief visit from Clara before slipping into sleep.

“Stay close this evening.” Rupert commanded when Clara went to leave. “I want you within earshot should anything go wrong following this evenings events.”

“Yes, your majesty.”

After Rupert left the room, Clara moved to the side room and set up for another evening of sleeping away from her family; hoping all would still be well in the morning.

* * *

Virgil and Roman didn’t see each other for the rest of the evening; both emotional from the discussion. Roman turned to knife throwing in his room to quell his thoughts; frustrated that Virgil’s views didn’t match his own. He felt that Virgil almost purposefully avoided agreeing with him on all matters. Sorcerers, the fates, sutures, red or green apples; Virgil never agreed with him and it hurt. He used to think Virgil would grow and eventually see that his beliefs were superior, but he was starting to think that just wasn’t going to happen. Blades struck wood repeatedly as Roman replayed conversations in his mind and tried to piece his friend’s motives together.

Virgil on the other hand, simply drank the potion Logan had been kind enough to leave and tried to calm his mind enough to sleep before his early morning duties. Unable to find peace, he turned to the books in his side table and started reading the text Logan had lent to him; thoughts quieting as he took in the information text on rune marked animals. He was almost halfway through the book when his eyes started sliding closed and he allowed himself to drift off to sleep.

* * *

_The full moon cast a light across the lands. Silver beams glittered off reflective surfaces and the natural magic of the land surged around the city as the fates whispered into the ears of the chosen._

_One saw a wolf falling in love with a deer, before the wolf had its back plastered in a rain of arrows._

_Another saw red berries blanketing the shore of a stream and heard the promise of a plentiful harvest. But the plants wilted and shrivelled away to reveal a stone grave._

_A woman stirred with the warning that death was approaching someone close to her._

_A snake slithered across a horse’s path and the horse wasn’t afraid; lowering its head for the snake to meet its eye. The word ‘trust’ echoed through their ears as the snake slithered away._

_Flames filled a room of the castle and a figure with glowing eyes stood in the centre. A sword and shield discarded in the flames beside a cloak bearing the royal crest._

_The final person blessed with the fates fortune struggled to see their message. Screams drowned out their words and a blinding light hid their vision. All that remained was a feeling. A feeling of loss and achievement. A burning pain that danced across their skin before being chilled by ice._

_Each blessed soul woke with differing reactions. Some fear, some ignorance, some sadness, and one with a cry that had a Prince fleeing his chambers to find their closest friend._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m sorry I disappeared for so long...but it will happen again. I’m not gone gone, just busy. But I’m always watching for comments or trying to post something else (maybe having multiple WIPs was a bad idea). Also, make sure you are checking out the art for the previous chapters. They look so good.  
> Hope you enjoyed this chapter. It really hints to a lot of stuff I have planned. Can you work out how everyone is connected? Have you guessed everyone’s motives yet? (Oh the suspense is killin’ me)  
> 💜🐌


	6. Fates Fail

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Fates shared their message with the King and other fortunate souls throughout the land; hoping their cryptic glimpse into the future would prepare them for it. Unfortunately for them, not everyone was able to process their visions completely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It has been a long wait, I know 😔 Sorry about that.

Logan woke and blindly reached their hand out to locate their glasses; wrapping tired fingers around the wooden frames and placing them on their face. A vision from the Fates had a very distinct feeling from normal dreams; they were intense and tiring. Shuffling downstairs, Logan set some water to boil as they collected herbs to mix a calming tea. The aroma was just beginning to fill the main area when Haefen came down the stairs to join his child at the mixing table.

"Care to share what you saw?" Haefen questioned, seeing Logan's furrowed brow.

"Only if you are willing to share your own vision."

Silence came as an obvious response of their reluctance to share and Logan carefully poured a cup of tea for their father before pouring the rest into a larger travel container.

"What are your plans, Logan?"

"If the Fates are calling to us, they may have touched others." Stepping away, Haefen sipped at the warm, sweet tea while Logan packed. "I'm going to check on Virgil and the other young servers."

"Take care not to catch the guard’s attention."

"They've never caught me before."

Logan left without another word, mind still thinking about the message the Fates had sent. They questioned if the deer was referring to Spirit or themself; and if the deer wasn't them, it would make them the arrow filled wolf. All they could know for sure was they were one of the animals; they could feel that warning strong in their gut. It terrified them and they wished to be like Virgil and forget the vision altogether.

* * *

Slipping into Virgil's room was easy, but Roman was surprised to find the bed empty as he approached. Heavy breathing in the rooms furthest corner alerted him to his friend’s presence, and he activated a lamp to try and assess the state they were in.

"Virgil?"

The lamps light barely reached the far corner, but it was enough for Roman to see Virgil pressed against the wall with his arms wrapped tightly around his chest; breathing fast and desperate.

"It's okay, Virge." Keeping his hands in view, Roman carefully stepped forward as he watched the other’s eyes dart blindly around the room. "It's me. Roman."

"R-r-ro-roman?"  
"Yeah. It's me."

"I-I-I ca-can-n-can-n-t ssee. I-it hur-t-ts-ts-s"  
"It's okay. I'm right here." Hand reaching Virgil's shoulder, Roman felt guilty at the way he flinched before leaning his head forward to find their chest. "I need you to breathe for me, okay? Lets just slow it down."

When Logan peeked into the room, he found Roman with his arms protectively wrapped around Virgil as they counted their breaths. The Prince turned his head and saw the physician looking in; giving them a nod of permission to enter.

"Logan's here. I'm going to help you back to bed, okay?"

With a small approving nod, Roman carefully lifted Virgil up and met Logan by the bed; sitting so panicked man remained on his lap.

"What happened?" Logan asked, immediately looking them over for injuries.  
"I don’t know. He just said he can't see and he's in pain," Roman shifted onto the bed further to lift Virgil's legs up as Logan continued to check him over.

Brow creasing in thought, Logan looked into Virgil's eyes; void and pupils small despite the low light. Mind sifting through everything they knew about Virgil and the Fates visions; a realisation dawned on the young physician.

"You're fine, Virgil. You're just sleeping." They said, giving his shoulder a supportive squeeze.

"Um, no offense, Logan;" Roman said with a slight chuckle, "but you might have the wrong glasses on. Virgil is awake. His eyes are open."

"Yes, but his mind is still sleeping and trying to process the Fates vision." Logan replied, moving to pour some tea into a nearby cup. "Close your eyes, Virgil, and you will be able to see again."  
Roman watched in confusion as Virgil complied and their body relaxed further into his hold.

"Talk to us for a while, Virgil. Tell us what you can see right now."

"Virgil doesn't dream, Logan, you know that. He won't see anything. What is with you tonight?"

"Shush and let him speak." Logan replied sternly and helped Roman shuffle around so his back was against the bed's headboard. Virgil clung to his friend’s bed clothes and began whispering as they settled into their new position.

"I just see the sky peeking through the leaves of the Queen’s garden."

"Can you hear anything, besides us?" Logan prompted, offering a cup of tea to Roman.

"No. It's nice. Peaceful."

"How do you feel?"

"The pain is gone. I just feel...Alone." The observing pair exchanged a glance; Roman nervously sipped the tea Logan had given him. "I know you're here though and...and I feel...happy."

"Happy? How can you feel alone and happy?" Roman asked, earning stern look from Logan.

"I don't know. I haven't felt like this before, but it's nice to feel it."  
"What do you mean by that? Aren't you happy here, Virgil?" That outburst earnt a slap to his shoulder from Logan.

"It's a different happy, Ro." Virgil hummed, breathing levelling as sleep began to take him. "Different... To with...you."

Opening his mouth to comment further, Logan silence the Prince with a raised hand.

"Let it go, Roman. He's asleep."

"What was all that?" Roman eventually whispered, setting his cup aside. "How did you know he was asleep, even though he looked awake and was talking?"

"I remember listening to my parents talk about him when I was young. He experienced a great trauma before the Queen brought him here, Roman." Sitting on the bed opposite the pair, Logan stared at their hands to avoid the Prince's eyes. "The particulars of that trauma are not mine to share, but I'm sure you have a general awareness of them."

"I know Mother saved him during an attack on his village, and he was the only child to survive."

"Yes, well... To protect himself from that memory and lose, Virgil's mind has engaged a barrier of sorts. His subconscious remembers and recalls everything, but his conscious mind won't let everything through. As a result, Virgil recalls basic feelings and emotions on the rare occasion that information slips through, but otherwise he recalls nothing. That is my understanding at least." Sensing the others confusion, Logan sighed and met his eye. "The mind doesn't always follow an exact science, Roman. It isn't something we are meant to completely understand. But I knew the Fates spoke through the subconscious mind and I knew that that was the part Virgil keeps separate. I made a simple deduction that was thankfully proven correct."

"So, if that’s the case...will he remember what happened tonight?"

"Most likely not. I predict he will either remember nothing at all or have a vague memory of us assisting him to return to bed. The Fates vision was pointless either way. Lost in a mix of repressed memories."

"The Fates are pointless in general."

"You don't believe in their warnings, Roman?"

"I don't believe in them all together." Roman stroked Virgil's hair and relished the sigh of content that escaped his lips at the action. "As far as I'm concerned, they are manipulative liars that use fear so they can feed on the belief of their followers."

"Interesting viewpoint from a royal." Logan stood and poured more tea into a cup. "Considering you will receive their visions monthly soon enough."

"They can feed me their lies all they like, but that doesn't mean I will trust them."  
"What did they say tonight?" Logan waited, but when no response came, they decided to lead the conversation themself. "I saw a wolf with fur as dark as the night sky alongside a grey deer. Their heads touched and my heart was filled with love and adoration before arrows rained from the sky. The wolf stood over the deer and protected it."

"Sounds like utter nonsense."

"I agree that it sounds ridiculous, but that is only because I cannot yet comprehend what they are trying to tell me. In time, I will come to understand the meaning behind it and-"

"Trying to understand the meaning behind their visions is what drove my grandmother to her death." Roman snapped.

Virgil stiffened and whimpered in his arms, before Roman softened his voice and started stroking his hair again.

"Forgive me, your highness," Logan bowed their head and ignored the pained look in Roman's eye at their sudden formal tone. "I spoke out of line. I shouldn't have tried to force my own beliefs onto you. I will take my leave."  
"Logan." The physician stopped at the door but refused to turn back around. "I appreciate what you have done for us, and what I hope you will continue to do."

"I will be here whenever you or Virgil need me." Logan turned their head; eyes appearing ablaze with the lamp lights reflection on their glasses. "I believe I am the wolf after all."

The door clicked shut and Roman was left with Virgil once more; shifting lower onto the bed so they could lay side by side. Lamplight slowly fading after Roman's hand brushed the rune and he settled down to find a few hours of rest before the sun rose on a new day.

* * *

A soft knocking on the door caused Virgil to stir; his body so relaxed that he didn't flinch as the door creaked open.

"Well aren't you just precious."

Virgil's eyelids were still too heavy to open as Val came inside and he let out a grunt at her words. Mind slowly waking, he became aware of just how warm and comfortable he was; unusual for his generally cold living conditions.

"Look, I'm glad you two reconciled after last night, and as much as I would love to let you both sleep, you need to get up before suspicion spreads."

"What are you-"

Finally opening his eyes, Virgil came to his senses and woke up fully when he realised he had been curled up against the Prince's chest.

"Roman! What the fu-"

Val managed to catch Virgil before he fully slipped off the bed; blankets tangled around his feet in his rush to move away. Reacting just as fast, Roman sat up and held his arms out in surrender as he saw the panic in his friend’s eyes.

"It's okay. Your fine, Virge."

"Like hell I am! What are you doing here? WHEN did you get in here?"

"Well I guess that means Logan's first assumption was correct, you don't remember anything, do you?"

Seeing the red blossom on the Prince’s cheeks, Val cut in before Virgil could answer.

"I'd love to let this continue, my Lord, but I'm afraid your absence will soon cause suspicion."

"My absence?" Roman blinked and ran a hand through his bed-hair as Virgil scrambled over to check the time. "

"Shit, Roman, it's almost 10. I was meant to be on duty over an hour ago."

"Holly went to cover for you." Val assured, as Virgil raced to grab clothing for the day. "She said you would know her price."

"Great. I imagine I am going to love it. Ro," the Prince was still sitting cross-legged on the bed despite the nervous energy in the room, "you need to get back to your room before someone else finds you here."

"Of course, but Virgil, I need to expla-"

"Tell me later, alright?" His voice came out harsher than he intended, and Virgil took a breath to calm himself before speaking further. "Let's just get through the morning without anyone jumping to conclusions, okay?"

With an affirming nod, Virgil slipped out to the bathrooms while Val helped Roman sneak back to his room without detection.

* * *

The informal dining room filled with natural light as the sun rose higher into the sky, and Iris scrubbed the windows to calm her nerves. The Prince still hadn’t called for breakfast and the morning was inching away, meaning her schedule of chores was extending further into the evening. Silently begging the spirits to hurry the tardy man along, she jumped in horror when Roman burst through the doors a moment later.

“Good morning, Iris. Sorry I’m late, but a prince must have his beauty sleep.”

“No apologies needed, my lord. I will fetch your breakfast immediately.”

Iris slipped out the door before Roman could reply and he was left alone in the silent room; staring out the freshly cleaned window. While the scenery was great, he tired of it. It was always the same view of the same part of the market, with the same indistinguishable bodies pushing past one another. Training his eyes to a guard tower, he imagined Virgil settling into his watch position and fretting over what price Holly would have him pay. Checking the suns position, Roman sighed, realising he would have a few hours to himself before Virgil would join him in the library for study.

* * *

Dodging one fist and backing out of reach of another, Virgil kept his expression void of emotion as the replacing guard cackled.

“I haven’t had the privilege of punishing the outsider for a while.” Desperate fists came forward again; feet shuffling against stone to maintain distance in the limited space. “Bout time I put you in your place again.”

“Unlikely.” Virgil retorted, allowing himself to reach the back wall. “You’re the slowest purist I’ve come across. You won’t lay a finger on me.”

He would never admit it out loud, but Virgil enjoyed the look of false hope that flared in the guard’s eyes as he saw Virgil’s back touch the wall. It was the moment when the predator believed it was about to capture its prey; only in this case, the prey wasn’t as cornered as he appeared.

Using magic in unregistered fights was outlawed within the city walls; which had saved Virgil a lot of hurt in the long run. Adara had sadly said it was one law that worked in his favour and was the reason why Holly trained him exclusively in hand to hand combat from a young age. However, activating strength runes on your clothing wasn’t illegal in any way, and Virgil knew how to use it to his advantage.

Pulling his arms up to shield his face, Virgil brushed his hand across the faint rune on the cuff of his shirt; the fabric stiffening on his back. The moment he felt the fabric change, Virgil let his legs buckle, sliding down the rough wall as the guard jabbed his fist forward. Rewarded with the satisfying sound of knuckles on stone, he rolled to the side as the guard stumbled back and clutched his hand to his chest; springing to his feet and fleeing before any further attempts were made against him.

Exiting the tower, Virgil stopped and looked up to the guard tower above; the torture chamber he would have to return to soon enough. His shifts didn’t always end in a fight; most guards were reasonably pleasant or indifferent towards the young ward, but others were still unaccepting of an outsider receiving royal privileges and achieving the title of weapons master. The view of many was that only those of an appropriate bloodline should be allowed to train as weapon masters; though Virgil thought that belief stemmed from their own jealousy and incapability. 

Leaving the tower in his shadow, Virgil headed into the market to collect a well overdue breakfast. He handed a few extra coins to the baker for his new child before he stuffed one savoury roll in his mouth and bagged the other for later. Satisfied with the purchase, he quickened his pace to reach Roman in the library before he missed any more of the session. Logan watched from afar as Virgil scaled the stairs and disappeared inside the castle; glad to see him moving without a limp or sign of injury. Feeling relieved, Logan continued their journey into the outer town to make house-calls at their father’s request; bag packed for a trip to the forest when they were done.

* * *

Quills scraped against paper as the scholars spoke; eager learners taking vigorous notes of their every word. English letters and runes filled pages of roughly bound notes of every student but one; Roman’s page was a mess of inked scratches that formed a shaky landscape the more he added. His complacency was hardly due to arrogance, more frustration at his inabilities. For years Roman had been similar to the others; notebooks filled with information and messy runes that read as nonsense. While his English handwriting was immaculate, Roman struggled to understand or record even the simplest of runes alone. When he tried to write them, he couldn’t recall the ancient lettering beyond the elements; even looking at them had the lines rising from their positions on the page and blurring together before him. It was an anomaly that no one could explain, and the only support they offered the Prince was more lessons and the instruction to try harder. 

“Looks good, Ro.” Virgil said quietly as he slumped into the chair beside him. “Though I don’t think you’re going to manipulate flames with that.”

“I could too,” he whined in reply. “If I put it on a heat rune, I could make it burst into flames.”

The scholars, Luka and Cole, ignored the royal pair; rolling their eyes at their muffled laughter. Luka watched knowingly as Virgil set about his normal routine of getting Roman back on track; turning back to the board when he saw they were ready. Though offers of private lessons had been given, the Prince had turned them down in favour of normal lessons. It was to the scholar’s great relief that he didn’t however turn down Virgil’s assistance. Since completing his own studies, Virgil could now focus exclusively on Roman; slowly stepping him through runes in a far more simplistic manner.

“Please turn in your parchment for assessment,” Luka instructed at the sessions end.

Chairs scrapped against the floor as the other students lined up to have their work assessed; Roman joining the back and practically bouncing in anticipation.

“How did he do?” Cole whispered to Virgil as he packed up the table.

“Three are usable.” He said, keeping his voice low. “He’s improving, but many of his strokes are off.“

“Perhaps if you both attended extra lessons, he wou-“

“I don’t think he’s lying when he says he can’t see. This isn’t as simple as him studying more.”

“You know that is impossible. Physicians have tested his sight and Roman’s handwriting is without fault normally. The only logical course of action is to increase his lessons. He’ll never graduate otherwise.”

“Strange that we live in a land of magic and a person’s inability to learn is the thing that seems illogical. Perhaps there is more at play and we just haven’t discovered it yet.”

Cole looked deep into Virgil’s stormy eyes and pondered their words. Though they didn’t agree; they nodded in acceptance and moved aside so Virgil could meet the now whooping Roman.

“I passed, Virgil! I actually achieved a pass today!”

“Proud of you, Ro.” Virgil gave his shoulder a comforting squeeze as they made their way out of the library. “Now, lets get a snack before going to the training field. I’ve got some exercise to make up for.”

“Not today my bleary-eyed friend, we have a date with the outside world.”

Virgil stopped dead in his tracks, causing the Prince to look over his shoulder in confusion.

“Virge? You okay?”

“You want to skip training? Today?”

“Well, yeah.” Roman laughed as the answer seemed very obvious to him and he could hardly believe he had to explain himself to Virgil. “You’re healthy again, I just passed a runes lesson, and we finally have permission to go out without a pack of guards following us; why wouldn’t we go out?”

“How about the fact that I owe Holly a favour and I’d rather pay sooner rather than later.”

“Aw, don’t you worry about Holly.” Roman took Virgil’s hand and began pulling him down the hall towards the kitchens. “It won’t be the first, or even the last time we’ve skipped out on her and Sir Dolt. It’ll be fine.”

“Easy for you to say.” Virgil mumbled, allowing himself to be pulled along the rest of the way.

Holly and Andrew were excellent trainers; both worthy of their titles despite Roman’s nicknames. Virgil imagined the look of annoyance on Andrew’s face as he waited under the tree for the pair to arrive. Holly on the other hand would be hacking at a block of wood with her blades or shooting arrows to form patterns on the trees. Ignoring them without reason always ended in pain eventually, and Virgil was not in the mood for that after the few days he’d had.

Reaching the kitchens, Roman released his friend’s hand and went inside to sprinkle the chef with enough praise to earn a specially packed basket of goodies. From his position in the doorway, Virgil caught Val’s eye and gave her a pleading look. Excusing herself from the wash trough, the serving girl stepped out to speak with her friend.

“Judging by those puppy-dog eyes, you need something.”

“Unfortunately, yes.” He held out his hand and Val accepted the small array of coins he offered. “Take some for yourself and offer the rest to Holly with an apology. I’d rather she doesn’t beat me to death the next time I see her.”

With a small laugh, Val pocketed the coins. “I wish I could say you’re exaggerating, but knowing Holly as I do, she sure would beat your ass into the ground.”

Without further explanation, Val headed off down the hall and left Virgil in his solitude.

It took 15minutes for the cooks to finish the basket; Val returning just as Roman dragged his wary friend away. In a further 15, the pair were on their horses and heading towards the outer wall. Though they rode side by side, Roman repeatedly turned to check over his shoulder, happy to see the path behind them void of following guards.

“Where are you headed, sire?” Damien called from his position at the outer towns gate; scratching absently at the scars on his hand.

“To a suitable picnic area.” He smiled at Virgil; eyes gleaming with joy, before returning his focus to the guard. “We’ll return well before sunset, you needn’t worry.”

With than, Roman encouraged his horse ahead; Virgil following close behind for their first solo journey outside.

* * *

Running water from the stream soothed Virgil’s nerves as he lay back on the blanket, belly full of the meal they had brought. The ride had been uneventful, besides Roman’s random whoops of joy as he encouraged his mount to quicken her pace and charge along a long-forgotten path. The Prince looked out over the water and watched a pair of birds’ dance around each other; flying and landing to a beat only they could hear. Virgil would have happily continued to enjoy the tranquillity of the afternoon, but Roman unfortunately had things on his mind that he had to get out.

“Do you mind if we talk?”

“I assumed that was why you wanted to come out here.” Virgil kept his eyes closed, focusing on the sound of the water to keep himself calm. “What’s on your mind, Princey?”

“I wanted to talk about last night.”

“Which part? The one where you refused to accept my own beliefs, or the one where you let yourself into my bed and made me oversleep?”

“Hey, I said there was an explanation for that.”

“I’m all ears.”

A breeze shifted the branches above them, causing shadows to dance across the Virgil’s seemingly calm face. Roman shifted closer; his face warming as he looked at his peaceful friend.

“The fates sent out a message last night.”

“Didn’t think you believed in them.”

“I don’t!” Roman snapped; immediately regretting it as he saw Virgil go tense. “I… I know they exist…I just don’t believe in what they say. The point is, I woke up and felt something was wrong. Turns out I was right because when I got to your room you were having a full-on panic.”

“I was?” Opening his eyes, it was Virgil’s turn to experience guilt from Roman’s solemn look.

“It was scary how upset you were. I would have been lost if Logan hadn’t turned up out of the blue and helped me calm you down. I… I never… I never fully understood your nightmares until last night.”

Virgil sat up and hugged his knees to his chest, desperately trying to remember the evening and get some hint of what Roman spoke about.

“Logan thought the fates had tried to speak to you. Tell me honestly, Virgil… do you remember anything from last night? Or any of your dreams?”

Breathing deeply through his nose, Virgil closed his eyes and did his best to hold the impending tears at bay. Roman shifted slightly closer, but still not enough to physically touch his friend just yet.

“I… I’ve never lied to you fully, Roman. I don’t…I don’t remember my dreams, but I-“ his throat tightened as he continued to hold back the emotion that threatened to bubble out. “I often hear… screams before I wake. A-a-and there are feelings… feelings that I cannot explain.”

“What about last night?”

“Nothing. I don’t remember anything. The last thing I remember was reading Logan’s book on rune marked animals and being angry with you. Honestly, waking up in your arms was the last thing I expected.”

“Wasn’t exactly what I was expecting either.”

Arms snaked around Virgil’s body as Roman shuffled right up behind him; resting his chin on the smaller man’s shoulder, bodies coming closer together. Virgil’s heart ached, wanting to lean back into the safety and warmth of the Prince’s arms; but another part of him screamed to move away.

“I know we don’t agree on everything, Virgil.” Roman whispered; breath warm against the others cheek. “It frustrates me to no end sometimes. Regardless, I can’t stay mad at you.”

“Ro-“

“Especially not when you need me.” Sensing Virgil’s body relax at his words, Roman pulled him close and guided them both back down to the blanket. “And I… I need you too.”

Virgil rolled over so he was laying on Roman’s chest; part of his mind still screaming to move away. Fingers started gently stoking his hair and Virgil’s mind went blissfully silent; fully accepting the sanctuary of Roman’s company. Virgil felt freer than he’d ever felt in the Queen’s gardens; while on the other hand, Roman was overwhelmed with the feeling of success. He’d passed a class, gotten out unguarded and now had the man he loved willing accepting his embrace. No panic attacks. No fresh nightmare. Just the two of them alone in the forest.

“We shouldn’t be doing this.” Virgil eventually mumbled, opening his eyes as he registered that he’d been gently stroking the Prince’s chest. “Someone could see us and make assumptions.”

“Let them look. I’m not ashamed.”

“It’s not a good look, Ro.” Sitting up slightly, Virgil looked at the Prince with eyes full of concern. “What would your suitors think if they heard about this?”

“Let them think what they want;” he reached up caressed Virgil’s cheek, “I don’t care.”

Leaning into the touch, Virgil’s mind was once again screaming the negative implications; face contorting in frustration as he finally began moving away.

“We can’t do this, Princey. It’s not right.”

“Says who?” Roman whined, sitting up but making no move to close the gap Virgil had quickly established.

“Your responsibilities and royal traditions.”

“Screw that. I don’t have to listen to any of that if I don’t want to.”

“Don’t be a moron, Roman.” Standing, Virgil looked down at the slightly dejected royal. “I won’t come between you and your right to the throne.”

“And what if I said I didn’t want the throne?” The Prince stood and faced the other with determination.

“Then you’d be lying to me and yourself.” All fire drain from Roman’s eyes, unable to argue with the truth. “I know you, Roman. I’d never forgive myself if you gave up your dreams for an outside like me.”

Silence returned to the area as Virgil moved to check on the horses, leaving Roman alone with his thoughts. He’d hoped his boldness would have been rewarded; instead he was left feeling lonelier than before watching his love move away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey *waves nervously* Looks like waiting a month for an update is gonna be a thing…I should have seen that coming. Unfortunately, I can’t plan writers block or mental health relapses; but I can plan for my approaching report writing to take away every ounce of free time I have. So, lets be honest…I’ll probably see you all in late December.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading, and I really hope you enjoyed it.  
> Feel free to pass on any feedback you have (as long as it is constructive). 
> 
> Also, I’m on Tumblr.
> 
> I have a page for my art - [**@1-1snailxd-art**](https://1-1snailxd-art.tumblr.com/) 🐌
> 
> And one just for fun - [**@snail-giggles**](https://snail-giggles.tumblr.com/) 💜
> 
> Feel free to check either of them out if you want.


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